


The Remnants of Disaster

by Mvlpj1d03



Series: Alexander’s Slow Walk Out Of Hell [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Adoption, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Fluff, Foster Care, Historical Inaccuracies, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Omega Alexander Hamilton, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Underage Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unreliable Narrator, Washingdad, eventual poly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:48:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23783410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mvlpj1d03/pseuds/Mvlpj1d03
Summary: Shuffled from home to home after a hurricane plunged his island into a hellscape, Alexander Hamilton has learned to trust nothing but his own mind.When he arrives at the doorstep of George and Martha Washington, he expects nothing new from his most recent foster family. Slowly learning to trust again and coming to terms with his past, Alexander hopes he’s finally been placed in a home that wants to keep him around.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson/John Laurens, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan
Series: Alexander’s Slow Walk Out Of Hell [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713406
Comments: 59
Kudos: 199





	1. Placement

**Author's Note:**

> It’s just another foster care AU, y’all. But, you know, write what you want to read, or some shit like that. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely betas [cutie1365](https://cutie1365.tumblr.com/) and [eternally-ineffable](https://eternally-ineffable.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr.
> 
> Historical facts, random tidbits, and explanations will be put in the end notes.

**Wednesday**  
**Jan. 24, 2018, Bristol, VA, 10:03 A.M.**

Alexander had been sitting on a dirty beanbag chair, tucked into a corner of a social worker’s office, for close to four hours. So far, the nameless worker— Alexander remembered his name, it was Mr. Braxton, but he couldn’t care less— had called eleven different foster homes. Each one, as soon as they’d heard the small amount of information that was allowed to be shared, had turned down the placement. 

What was turning most of them off, he assumed, was that he was an Omega boy with a history of insubordination. That didn’t sit well with people, especially not foster parents. Alex had stopped listening to the specifics of each call, merely thumbing through the well-worn pages of one of his books. He wasn’t actively reading, but it was good to have a distraction, no matter how minuscule. 

However, his attention was piqued when Mr. Braxton’s tone became lighter, an audible weight lifted from his voice. Apparently he’d found someone. The social worker’s conversation was brief, but once again listening, Alexander heard the confirmation that he would be moving once more. At least it wasn’t a group home. After hanging up the phone, Mr. Braxton stood, making his way over to Alexander in the corner. The Beta was short and stout, and Alexander was unimpressed by his attempt at looking intimidating. 

“I’ve found you a place,” was all he said, tone clipped and professional. He turned on his heel once more, sinking down in his creaky desk chair to begin filling out the transfer paperwork. 

Alexander only hoped the man took his time. 

~  
**Jan. 22, 2018, Great Falls, VA, 4:30 P.M.**

They’d been driving for hours along the crowded stretch that was I-81 North. The caseworker; a woman who’d simply introduced herself as Kelsey, another Beta, had said it was a six-hour drive from Bristol to wherever it was they were going. He was clutching his backpack, beat up and threadbare, held together by hand stitching he’d managed to do in the dead of night a few weeks before.

It was always nerve-wracking to go into a new placement, despite how many times Alexander had been in the same exact position. He didn’t like guessing games, and that was all the first few nights with a new family were. They were always nice, at least to begin with. Until Alexander made the first mistake, or did something they didn’t like. That’s when things always changed, and he could never get a read on when exactly that switch would flip.

A glance at the clock on the dashboard told Alexander it was 4:31 P.M., and that they’d been on the road for the entire aforementioned travel time. He was getting antsy. His nerves doubled, when they pulled off the interstate, and he immediately decided that he’d changed his mind. He would sit there for days if he didn’t have to meet a new foster family. Kelsey obviously didn’t read his movement as nerves, instead smiling brightly at him.

“Are you excited, Alexander?” She asked, voice still holding the bright tone of a new worker. His only response was a shrug. That didn’t seem to deflate her good mood, but she took the hint and remained silent until they turned down a private road. 

“This is a wonderful opportunity for you,” Kelsey said matter-of-factly, “please do behave. I don’t know much about the family, but they were willing to take you in having heard about your… issues,” she skirted around saying having heard he was an Omega. He always hated this part: the speech every social worker gave him before they got to a new house. 

When said house came into view, Alexander’s breath caught. The place was enormous. 

“This is it?” He asked frantically, startling Kelsey by speaking. She hadn’t heard him say a word thus far, despite their long, long car trip. “You’re sure?” 

Kelsey took it in stride, humming in affirmation. “This is the place. I’ve heard the Washingtons are lovely people,” she nodded, parking messily in the large roundabout. 

The house was brick, with four chimneys extended towards the sky. There were large windows, and three steps led up to a small front porch, protected by an overhang that was being supported by Doric columns. Everything around was impeccably trimmed, and the home was secluded in the woods. Alexander gulped. He would have to walk half a mile just to get to the main road if he had to. 

The car engine cut off, and suddenly Kelsey was opening his door for him, taking his elbow to lead the Omega up onto the porch. She rang the bell, clutching the simple file she had in her other hand. While they waited, Alexander tried to control his shaking. It didn’t help that the door didn’t open for a long moment. 

He should’ve been expecting it, but still flinched when the heavy door was jerked open. On the inside was a short woman, an Omega by the comforting scent washing through the doorway. Her ivory skin contrasted nicely against black hair tied loosely in a braid, and Alexander thought she looked kind. He didn’t think it was necessarily true, but it was a nice thought. 

She smiled brightly, opening the door wider for both his social worker and Alexander to step inside. “I’m Martha,” she greeted softly, holding a hand out for the boy to take. He didn’t and just stared at the appendage. Martha didn’t seem deterred by his reaction, slowly lowering the offered limb, her smile never fading. 

“This is Alexander,” Kelsey introduced him, nudging the Omega further into the room. “Thank you so much for taking him on such short notice. Is there a place we could go to speak?” She asked, straight to the point. 

Martha nodded, gesturing for both of them to follow as she turned on her heel. “We can speak in the dining room. I apologize my husband isn’t here, he was unable to take off work on such short notice,” just like that, Alexander’s hope deflated. He thought that, if it had just been an Omega as a foster parent, he would be okay. Maybe it would work for a little longer than the rest.

_It was a stupid thought,_ he scolded himself, _they would never let a single Omega foster._ As they moved further into the house, he could smell the lingering scent of Alpha. If his nose wasn’t lying, he could smell two. He couldn’t see the older Omega’s neck, but he assumed there was a bond mark. Alexander hunched his shoulders in, and he tried not to wince as his filthy sneakers left smudges on the grey carpet that the large dining room table was situated on. _Already fucking up._

After both Martha and Kelsey sat, he reluctantly followed suit. They were exchanging pleasantries, filling the time as Kelsey rifled through her paperwork. Pulling a few slips of paper out, she slid his “placement kit” across the wooden table. It consisted of only a few papers: a foster parent ID card, his Medicaid coverage letter, and the name and number of his old caseworker. He realized then that they would probably assign him a new worker closer to this home. 

“Here’s his file,” Kelsey slid the plastic folder over as well, into Martha’s waiting hands. “Inside is my phone number, and the number of my supervisor as well, in case you need anything.” The woman was very direct, pointing to the numbers paper clipped to the inside cover. 

“Is this all you have?” Marth asked, flipping through the pages inside without reading them. Her smile finally slipped off, eyebrows pushing together at the minuscule amount of information contained. 

Kelsey nodded. “That’s all we can legally provide you with,” she explained, holding her hands up to signify that it wasn’t her fault. Marth nodded, closing the file. Alexander noted, without reading any of it. Maybe she wasn’t allowed. The last of his hope left him.

“May I show you out, then?” Kelsey nodded, looking pleased with the exchange, and allowed herself to be shown to the door. She didn’t spare Alexander another word, merely patting him on the shoulder as she passed by. 

He heard the door close, and the soft click of heels on hardwood as Martha returned. 

“Would you like a tour of the house, Alexander?” The older Omega asked softly, crouching down so that she was eye-level with the seated teenager. He shrugged, deferring back to not speaking, as he did with most people. Marth took it well and smiled softly once more. “Come on dear, I’ll show you around.” She offered her hand once more, but Alexander ignored it and stood on his own. 

He was still clutching his backpack, winter jacket and shoes both on as Martha gave him a brief tour. She showed him the kitchen first. “You’re always allowed in here,” she explained, “food is available to anyone. If you want to keep something to yourself, just put a note with your name on it. We won’t touch it, but I’ll ask you to do the same for our labeled food.”

Alexander nodded along with her speech, not truly listening. Food was never free; it always came at a higher price. They went around the rest of the ground level, Martha pointing things out as they passed. 

Alexander startled when they entered the living room, staring wide-eyed at the birdcage, housing a large green parrot. He pointed when Martha gave him a questioning look, and she smiled softly at the macaw. 

“That’s Snipe,” the older Omega introduced him to the bird, running her fingers over the cage bars affectionately. “We also have four dogs, but you can meet them later, after dinner.

“This is George’s office,” she tapped on a solid oak door. “Please don’t go in here without permission, and knock if he's in there.” Her words made sense, but he didn’t like that it was only her Alpha’s office. An enclosed space where his wife may not be allowed. 

Upstairs, she stopped outside of a door near the end of the hall, closest to both sets of stairs. “This is one of your options for a bedroom,” the woman explained, opening the door to reveal a fairly spacious room, painted in a soft shade of blue. Sheer white cotton-lace curtains framed three windows, two on the wall to his left and one straight ahead, making the room appear bright and airy. In the centre of the room was a queen-sized bed, made in white and dark blue covers. 

He’d never been offered a room this nice before, and the thought of messing anything in it up made Alexander’s throat feel tight. Directly to the right of the door was another, which Alexander assumed was a closet until Martha opened it to reveal an en-suite bathroom. His eyes widened. 

“I apologize, the room doesn’t have a closet, but it is the only free bedroom up here with its own bathroom,” she explained sheepishly. “You’re welcome to the other bedroom, it has a closet. It’s entirely your choice. Would you like to see the other?”

Alexander thought for a moment, and noted that she waited patiently for his answer. When he simply answered with a shake of his head in the negative, Martha yielded. 

“My son and husband will both be home around six,” Martha explained. “You’re welcome to stay in here if you’d like some alone time, or come downstairs. In the basement there’s a game room, as well.” He stared, dumbfounded at the choices presented. 

“Son?” Alexander asked shakily, instead of answering the question. He flinched back when Martha took a step forward, expecting a strike for changing the topic. Martha froze in place, and raised both hands up neutrally in front of her. 

“I apologize,” she soothed, moving back. “I was just going to leave the room. As for our son, his name is Gilbert. I know I shouldn’t have assumed that they told you much about us.” 

Having trouble processing everything that was being thrown at him, Alexander backed himself into the wall. “He’s an Alpha?” He asked nervously, fiddling with the straps of his bag. 

Martha nodded, moving out the door so that he had his space. “He is,” she agreed. “He’s very excited to meet you, but he’ll understand if you’re nervous.” 

“Can I stay in here?” Alexander asked, gesturing to the room as soon as she’d finished speaking. “Just until they get home, I promise,” he was quick to add, not taking notice of her sudden frown. He’d already dropped his gaze to the floor. 

“Of course,” the woman nodded. “My husband, George, will explain the house rules when he’s home,” she grimaced. “I’m sorry, again, that he wasn’t here to greet you.” 

The door closed with a soft click, and Alexander was left alone. He’d almost forgotten about that law— only Alphas and Betas could make and enforce rules. His panic continued to climb. 

Alexander shucked his backpack, winter coat, and shoes off, tucked himself into the corner that was safely out of view when the door was open, and slid to the floor to let his mind slip away as much as it could. He wouldn’t be able to drop, but he could let himself relax.

~

At a quarter past six, George stepped into the house, and was immediately assaulted by the scent of worrying Omega. What put him on edge was that it was not only the scent of his wife. Obviously the new child had come, and wasn’t adjusting well. 

Martha appeared from behind the wall that hid the kitchen, wringing her hands in a dish towel. She wrapped her arms around her husband and took a deep breath before she spoke. 

“He’s upstairs,” she answered her husband’s question before he could ask. “I’ve left him be.”

“What’s his name?” George asked against her hair, pulling back to look up the staircase to his right. 

“Alexander,” Martha informed, taking a step back and clearing her throat. “He’s very nervous. Was scared of me, even,” she winced. George took her hand again, and squeezed it comfortingly. 

“I’ll go and introduce myself,” he told her quietly. “Is there anything I should know about him?” Martha shook her head, stepped away for a moment, and came back with the plastic folder from earlier in the night. 

“This is all they gave me on him, and I haven’t read it. I figured we could go over it together later on,” she suggested. “Please go explain the rules to him, I think it’s best if he knows them as soon as possible to ease his mind.”

George did the smart thing, pecked his wife on the cheek, and turned to head up the stairs. He took his time, stopping to shed his suit jacket in his and Martha’s bedroom. He finally had to double back and stop at the door to the room he assumed Alexander had chosen. 

He knocked once, and was able to hear a stifled gasp on the other side, followed by shuffling. The Alpha waited, not making another move, even as the door slowly cracked open. He got his first glimpse of the teenager, small, skinny, and positively radiating fear. 

Offering a smile, George took a small step closer and frowned heavily when Alexander stumbled backward. Martha hadn’t been lying, he was absolutely terrified.

~

Alexander was shaking as he opened the door an inch. He knew he shouldn’t have left the door closed, he’d learned that lesson a long time ago. But when Martha had closed it for him… he figured it would be okay, at least until her Alpha came home. And then he’d forgotten to open it again.

But the Alpha— George, he remembered Martha saying earlier— didn’t seem angry. Alexander still hunched his shoulders and dropped his head, eyes on the floor. From his quick glance, the Alpha was tall, well over six feet, and dark-skinned. Much broader and more muscular than Alexander was comfortable with. 

“Hello, Alexander,” once again, there was a hand being offered for him to shake, under his face where he could see. Alexander stumbled back, snapping his head up. “My name is George,” he continued on, ignoring the jerky movements of the boy.

The Omega stayed silent. His eyes were wide, and he was still expecting a reprimand for the door. Just as Martha had, George lowered his hand without looking too perturbed. 

“I’m here to go over the house rules with you,” he explained, following a stale silence. “May I come in?” Alexander was still shaking as he backed up hastily. He really didn’t want to let an Alpha into the room alone with him. But he’d learned a long time ago what happened when he said no. 

Not moving from his place, or letting go of the door, Alexander tracked George’s every move. The Alpha only walked a few steps forward, but it was enough. Alexander shut the door and dropped his gaze again as his eyes welled up. 

“May I?” George gestured to the bed and sat when he received a small nod. “We don’t have many rules in this house,” Alexander rolled his eyes, and hoped it hadn't been seen. 

“First, I’ll ask that you be respectful, to me and my wife, as well as our son,” he began, tone light. “Respect our boundaries. We don’t know what you’ve gone through, but as long as you respect us we’ll do the same for you. The same goes for our property. Accidents happen, of course, but please don’t purposefully destroy anything.

“We consider ourselves lenient in most areas,” George continued, “if you go out, you’re able to stay out until 10:00 o’clock without explanation, as long as we haven’t asked you to be home earlier. If you notify me or Martha, you’re allowed out until 12:00 o’clock, but no later. Also, we appreciate knocking on doors before entering, but of course under certain circumstances that can be ignored.” 

Alexander kept his eyes on the floor and clasped his hands behind his back. It was too easy, too simple. There was no way he’d be allowed as many liberties as were suggested. 

“Sir,” he spoke weakly, and cleared his throat, waiting. Lessons that had been drilled in by countless Alphas to wait for permission to speak were resurfacing. 

“Yes, son?” Alexander winced, but didn’t correct the name. 

“My, uhm, my heats? What am I supposed to…” He trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. There were two Alphas living in the house, he should have been able to guess what the answer would be. 

“Of course, of course,” George nodded, wringing his hands together. “We have scent diffusing mats to put under doors, and we’ll provide any nesting materials you need.” Right, so Alexander had been correct. 

“Is there anything else I’ll need to know, sir?” The Omega asked, ducking down. He wanted to curl up in a ball and cry, or take his chances running away. But he knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

“No, no, I believe that’s all for now,” he stood, giving Alexander a wide berth as he walked to the door. “Dinner will be ready soon, please wash up and come downstairs in a few minutes.” 

All said and done, the Alpha walked out of the room, leaving the door wide open. Alexander wouldn’t make the mistake of closing it again. He looked around the room, and decided that the bureau on the far side of the room would be the best place to hide his books. He was just grateful to have not only a bed, but a dresser and a desk as well. All in his own room. 

Alexander stalled for as long as possible after stuffing the contents of his backpack into the top drawer of the bureau, books hidden beneath clothes, but knew it was time to go downstairs. The clock on his bedside table showed that ten minutes had passed, and that was pushing his luck enough. 

~

For as large as the house was, Alexander had no trouble remembering where the dining room or kitchen was. It was hard with such an open concept. He crept around the corner, still half-hidden behind the wall, when a new voice caught his attention. Their son was home, evidently. 

The newcomer was obviously an Alpha by his scent, even if Alexander hadn't known beforehand, and appeared as one even more obviously once he was in Alexander’s line of sight. Broad, tall, and finely muscled, the teenager radiated an energy that was nerve-wracking. He couldn’t hide forever, though, and cautiously took a step into the bustling kitchen, physically showing his presence. 

The young Alpha turned towards Alexander, and he was greeted by a blinding grin. Hair pulled back and appearing to be wearing riding clothes, Alexander supposed the teen had been at a barn of sorts. 

“Alexander!” He winced at the loud exclamation, taking a halting step back towards the doorway he’d come from. “I’ve been told much about you, how are you adjusting? I am Lafayette!” Alexander didn’t say a word, but noted the obvious French accent accompanying Lafayette’s rapid-fire words. 

The Omega raised a hand in a small wave of greeting, and braced himself on the wall. He was grateful that George and Martha were consumed with food preparation, and were both making an effort to ignore the teenagers’ exchange. 

Lafayette was holding four plates in his hand, alongside the matching required silverware, and gestured for Alexander to follow him towards the dining room. “Come, come help me set the table,” the young Alpha was seemingly inviting him, but Alexander recognized an order when he heard one. He dutifully dropped his gaze, and followed along. 

Lafayette handed the Omega the silverware, smiling as he set the plates down. “Are you enjoying our home?” Alexander stared blankly in response. He shrugged lopsidedly, making sure to set down the silverware he’d been handed with care, so as to not make a sound with them. 

“I assume you have been given the tour,” the Alpha continued speaking, unperturbed by the silence. He moved closer to Alexander and went to take the rest of the silverware from his hands. Lafayette stopped, however, when Alexander froze, and the thick scent of fear curled in the air. 

Lafayette stepped back as quickly as he had come forward, hands raised defensively. “I meant no harm,” he spoke gently. “May I have the rest of those?” Laf pointed to the dishes in Alexander’s hands, rather than moving forward again. Alexander hesitantly held the aforementioned silverware forward, hurrying back as soon as it’d been exchanged. 

Lafayette placed the rest of the forks and knives quickly, and kept his distance from Alexander the entire time. Once finished, he backed off completely, and exited the room, back into the kitchen. 

Having been given no direction, Alexander opted to stay put. He leaned back against the wall, and closed his eyes for the moment. He truly hated the first few days of a new placement. 

His reprieve didn’t last long, and soon all three of the Washingtons were rushing into the room. Both adults carrying multiple dishes, and Lafayette precariously carting four glasses of water. 

“Sit, sit,” Martha insisted in a bright voice as she placed a dish on the table, cushioned by a thick cork pad to keep it off the wood. He hesitantly did as told, wondering if there would be reprimand for taking one of their places. None of the three said a word, however, and Alexander took the time to look at the food in front of him. 

“This is chicken pot pie, and beer bread is in the basket,” she pointed to the dishes as she spoke, “honey butter is in the tub, this is roasted vegetables, and then I have some macaroni and cheese if you don’t eat meat,” Martha smiled brightly, taking a seat to her husband’s right, who was sat at the head of the table. _Predictable,_ Alexander thought. 

Alexander was silent for a long stretch of time before he cleared his throat hesitantly. “Thank you,” he choked out, voice rough with disuse. Martha looked shocked, but the surprise very quickly morphed into another blinding smile. 

“Of course, dear. Eat what you please, we’ll understand if your appetite isn’t huge.” He very much doubted that, but wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Food never came free. But he would take what he could, and hoped this meal would hold him over until they decided to feed him again. 

The awkward silence lasted for a final few seconds, before being broken by Lafayette’s stomach growling. George laughed lightly and immediately began to serve up food onto his plate, taking from each of the dishes on the table. Alexander was shocked when Martha took food for herself, that George didn’t dole out her portions, but didn’t let himself stare for long enough to be caught. 

Alexander simply sat stock-still, not daring to so much as touch the table, let alone the dishes. He dropped his head and waited to see what he would be allowed. George placed a hand on the table in front of the teenager, far enough away that it wouldn’t be a threat, to get his attention. 

“You don’t need permission,” the Alpha spoke strongly, leaving no room for confusion. “Take what food you like, as much as you please.” _What utter bullshit._

Lafayette, who was next to Martha on the other side of the table, passed over the basket of biscuits. “Food is free, mon ami.” The young Alpha wasted no more time, and began to eat with a vigor typical of his age and status. Always looking for more food, to pack their bodies with muscle. 

Alexander hesitated, looking to George, taking a risk to look him in the eye. “Sir?” He asked, shakily raising a hand towards his plate. 

“Please,” George waved loosely at the food on the table, “help yourself. Eat as much as you please.” 

With a small nod, the small Omega slowly dished out small amounts of the chicken pot pie and roasted vegetables, though only as much as he knew he could keep down. Already, just from the smell of the rich foods, his stomach was turning. 

Again, Martha frowned, but didn’t comment as she watched the boy eat. He picked carefully through the minuscule amount of food on his plate, and sipped at the water in front of him like it was poisoned. She also took notice of the fact that Alexander’s eyes never stopped bouncing between George and Lafayette. 

“Gilbert,” the woman looked to her son, trying to break the frozen air. “How were your horses today?” She asked, watching as Alexander froze from the corner of her eye. Alexander watched as Lafayette (Gilbert?) smiled, swallowing before he answered his mother. 

“They were wonderful!” He exclaimed, placing his fork down so that he could speak with his hands. “Cricket jumped his first 1.20-meter cross country course today.”

George hummed happily, and Alexander’s eyes snapped back to him. “Great to hear. I’m glad you were right about his potential on the cross country field. Alexander,” the Alpha turned, “have you ever been around horses?”

Alexander froze, and debated telling the truth. It was likely George would know if he lied. “Yes sir,” he finally mumbled. It was the right answer, he knew, when the Alpha broke out into a grin. 

“That works well, then, doesn’t it? We have a few boarded at a stable near here. Martha and I have two, and Gilbert has four that he shows,” he explained. 

“I will have to take you one day soon,” Laf jumped in. “I can put you on my Buttons, she is the gentlest mare I’ve known so far,” he continued, not taking note of Alexander’s fear-stricken face. As soon as he finished talking, he went back to eating. 

“So Alexander,” Martha tried again to lighten the tension, “what are your interests? What do you do for fun?” The boy simply shrugged in response, having decided that speaking had gotten him nowhere. Martha looked crestfallen at the lack of answer, but decided it was best to drop it, and let him finish his small dinner in silence. The two Alphas followed her lead and ate quickly without speaking. 

~ 

Once the dishes had been cleared away and loaded into the dishwasher— all done by George and Martha, the lack of orders making Alexander nervous— the teenager followed the Washingtons into the living room, keeping as far from the others as possible. He was shocked when Martha sat on the couch next to her husband without a word, and decided it wasn’t worth the risk. 

“Am I-” he paused, debating if the reward outweighed the risk, “am I allowed on the furn- on the furniture?” Alexander wanted to curl in a ball for stuttering, but at the same time was just glad he’d gotten it out at all. 

George looked stricken at the question, and Alexander regretted asking at once. He should have known. He was rarely allowed on furniture. _You’ve been nothing but a burden,_ he hissed to himself internally, be thankful you were given a bed.

“Of course, of course you’re allowed!” George exclaimed, lowering his voice when the teenager flinched. “You have complete access to almost anything in this house. You don’t need our permission.” _Yeah, right, like I can believe that._

“Gilbert,” Martha spoke up, “please go let the dogs in.” Laf groaned in an exaggerated fashion, and made a show of standing, but did as asked without further complaint. Alexander was still surprised he listened to her at all. While both adults were distracted he sat gingerly on the edge of the sofa, like it would suddenly jerk out from underneath him if he relaxed.

“The dogs are very friendly, Alexander. They have good manners, they’re just a bit rowdy when meeting new people. Just tell them to sit if they become too much,” George instructed him, settling further on his own sofa before turning to the boy. 

“Alexander, I know this move won’t be easy for you, but I’d like to make it as painless as possible,” the man said gently. “Martha has cleared her schedule for the next week to help you settle in, and tomorrow you’ll go shopping for new clothes, along with anything else you might need.” Alexander’s momentary panic about the shopping was overridden by the sudden revelation that he didn’t know what either of them did. 

The Omega simply nodded and dropped his head. “May I go to my room?” He asked, voice as soft as he could manage. He flinched back slightly when George frowned, but held his ground as much as he could. 

“Of course, Alexander. You can meet the dogs in the morning. Clue, Stuart, and Captain typically sleep in our room, and Ranger sleeps in Gilbert’s, but I’m sure one of them would be just as happy to move to yours,” he offered, smiling at the boy.

Alexander shook his head at the offer, not wanting to push. “No thank you, sir.” With those as his parting words, he stood rapidly, and speed-walked out of the room, retracing the path back to his new room. 

Once inside, he shut and locked the door with a sigh of relief. A lock wouldn’t stop a determined Alpha, but it was a nice thought. It might help him sleep better, too. When his brain caught up with his fingers, though, he unlocked and cracked the door open, determined not to make that mistake. 

He surveyed the room once more, even though it hadn’t changed in the time he’d been gone. It was too nice for him. He crept over to the bureau, sliding the drawer that he’d hidden his books in open. He pulled out his mother’s Torah, and began to reread the words he’d long since memorised. 

~ 

When Lafayette walked back into the living room, trailing the four boisterous dogs, he was still hopeful to learn more about their new addition. When he saw that the Omega was gone, his mood dropped significantly. Reclaiming his place on the sofa adjacent to the one his parents were on, he looked to George. 

“He is very nervous around me,” the young Alpha professed his thoughts, not offering anything more. He grabbed the hem of his sweater, picking at the hem. 

“We don’t know what he’s been through, Gilbert,” Martha chimed in. “I’d like for you to give him some pyjamas and shower supplies, his backpack seemed too light to have much,” she instructed, curling further into George’s side. “I’ve taken the next week off work, and we’re asking you to tread carefully around Alexander. Allow him to adjust.”

Lafayette nodded along, having expected as much. “Should I tell Hercules and John that dinner tomorrow is not happening?” He asked, tapping nervously on the upholstery of the sofa. 

George and Martha shared a glance, and seemed to have a silent conversation before the elder Alpha shook his head. “No, we should keep as much of a normal routine as possible. Hercules isn’t a threat, either, and it might be good for Alexander to meet an Omega his age that trusts us. It should be fine.”

The teenager smiled faintly, dipping his head once in acknowledgement. He didn’t say more, just stood once again, walking over to kiss his parents on the cheeks before disappearing up the stairs with his Dalmatian hot on his heels.

He sighed once in his bathroom, staring at the products that lined his counters, tub, and shower. He’d already collected a shampoo, conditioner, and body wash gentle enough for Omega skin, but couldn’t decide if it was enough.

In the end, he grabbed a pomegranate body polish, vanilla bean body cream, and wrapped everything in the softest towel he could find. He added a soft sweater of his own that would be far too big on Alexander, and a pair of John’s flannel pyjama bottoms to the pile. Marching down the hall, he knocked on the already open door, taking care to not open it with the force. 

It took a moment, but Lafayette waited patiently for the Omega to inch the door open. His eyes were like saucers, and he did his best not to allow Lafayette into the room. 

“I’ve brought you a few things, Alexander,” Laf bounced the items in his hands. “We will get you your own things soon, but until then these should work. Please let me know if these are too harsh on your skin, I’ll find something better,” he spoke in a soft voice, not making a move forward. 

Alexander was shaking when he answered. “I have— I have a bar of soap. And a change of clothes, it’s okay,” the Omega tried to refuse, hands slipping where they gripped the door due to how much his palms were sweating. 

“I’m afraid Martha will have my head if I do not give these to you,” the Alpha joked, bending down to place the items on the floor, wedged between the door and the frame. Sensing the fear, Lafayette gave a small wave in departure, and backed to his own room. 

Alexander stared long after Lafayette had disappeared before eventually pulling the gifts inside. He refused to touch them, but it was best to pretend they were being used. He paced for close to an hour, before sliding down into the corner he’d claimed earlier in the day. It would have to do, he decided, opening his Torah to pass the time.


	2. Day 2 (Part 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I exclusively post after 1 in the morning.
> 
> This shit’s fucking long as one whole chapter, so it got split into 2 (psst, it’s also because part 2 isn’t done yet but I wanted to post).
> 
> Thank you to my lovely betas.
> 
> Doubt it was noticed, but I changed the date this started at by 2 days, because the first damn line in my story was already a plot hole. Nobody would’ve noticed, probably, but I couldn’t take it.

**Thursday, Jan. 25, 2018**

Alexander didn’t sleep that night. When he finally closed his book and glanced at the little clock on the bedside table the glowing green numbers showed it was 04:17 A.M.. Far too early for any normal teenager to be awake, but it was difficult for him to sleep in. Though that required actually falling asleep.

From the sound of the house, he was the only one awake. He crept across the room, back protesting from the position he’d kept for hours. He contemplated taking a shower, but decided it would cause too much noise. In the end, Alexander took the opportunity to truly scope out the house.

With a sigh of relief when the door didn’t creak, the Omega stepped into the hallway, and quickly made his way down the stairs. It was a risk— snooping could lead to severe punishment if he was caught— but he needed to know what kind of house it really was. He refused to admit that it was because he hadn’t paid much attention during his brief tour. 

The entryway that the stairs let down in was too open for his liking, offering many doorways for someone to watch or sneak up on him. But it also gave him choices if he needed an exit. He chose the living room to scope out first, figuring it would have the most personal items. 

The first thing he noticed in the open living room was that the birdcage was covered with a thick black blanket. Alexander gave a sigh of relief— a screaming bird would most definitely give him away. He turned his attention to the decorations.

The mantle was covered in framed pictures, each of them matching the others despite their different scenes. Some depicted Lafayette on horseback, most posing with ribbons, but one of him jumping a massive fence. 

Others were of the three as a family, what looked like vacation pictures, pictures of George and Martha, and one of Lafayette with two other teenagers. The eclectic collection of photographs made him feel more like an outsider. He didn’t fit their picture-perfect family. 

Built-in bookshelves were filled on the wall that held the fireplace, stuffed with books covering every subject, alongside ribbons, trophies, and the odd knickknack. While everything was organised and in a perfect place, the house seemed well-loved. 

Alexander walked over quietly and ran a finger over the spines of the books, reading titles as he touched. Many were cookbooks, but there was also history, law, science fiction, and dozens of other genres. He wondered if Martha was allowed to read them, or if they were only for George and Lafayette. Maybe, if he was really good, they’d let him read their books. 

He was going to take a bold risk and pull one from the shelf when the light clicked on, startling the Omega enough for him to flinch back against the wall he was near. George was standing there in the soft overhead light, dressed in a blue bathrobe and slippers, sleep still heavy on his features. Alexander noted, as an afterthought, that three of the dogs he’d heard them speak of were roaming the downstairs, uninterested in the Omega.

“You’re up early,” the Alpha commented, leaning back against the door jam. There was plenty of space between him and Alexander, yet the teenager still felt like he was being suffocated. He’d been caught.

“I-I’m sorry sir,” he gasped, crossing his hands behind his back, gaze falling to the floor. Best to look the submissive part while apologising. 

“Why’re you sorry,” George sounded amused, and Alexander tensed at the tone. It was never good when they thought it was a game. It always ended in even more pain for him. Alexander thought about not answering, but figured it may make the situation worse. 

“For leaving my room, s-sir,” he kept his voice low. “And for touching your things without permission.” He hoped it would be enough to mollify the Alpha. And that he didn’t smell as thickly of fear as he thought he did. 

With a hum, George crossed the room and sat down on the couch. “You don’t have to call me sir. And this is your house now too, you’re allowed to go pretty much wherever you please.” It was a trick, Alexander knew better. 

“Sorry for waking you, sir.” Another sigh. 

“I was awake already. About to start on breakfast,” George corrected, still not moving. “Look at me please, Alexander.” The Omega did as he was told, head snapping up to look at the Alpha. 

“Sir?” 

“George, son. My name is George. I don’t know what you’ve been taught, but in this house we are equal unless you give me a reason to be your disciplinarian. You’re allowed to touch what you please unless you’ve been asked not to. You can read the books. You’re safe.” 

Alexander couldn’t look him in the eye, but he braced himself further on the wall. He didn’t let himself hear the words, but forced his brain to accept that the Alpha wanted to be called George. 

“Thank you, George,” he murmured, not pushing the subject. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, but getting complacent was never smart.

“Would you like breakfast?” George frowned when the Omega dug his nails into his own wrists, visible only because he was pulling his right wrist so hard to the opposite side. “Or you’re more than welcome to wait for Martha. She should be awake in a half hour or so.”

Alexander simply nodded and dug his nails in harder. Self-discipline was easier, it let him have control before he was inevitably beat down. But George didn’t come towards him when he stood. Instead, the Alpha turned and strode toward the kitchen, not glancing back or calling Alexander to follow. 

The Omega stood there against the wall, dumbfounded at the lack of reaction. He stayed put as the minutes ticked by, waiting to see if George was going to come back. But when the starter on the stove clicked to life, and the telltale sounds of rustling in cabinets became the dominant noise, he relaxed slightly.

Alexander made his way over to the large arch window that held a seating area just next to the living room and looked out over the darkness outside. He hadn’t gotten a chance to see the backyard the day before, but assumed it would be just as impressive as the house. 

Next to the sitting area, separated only by a small step up, was a breakfast table and the kitchen, the wall there also made entirely of windows. Sitting carefully on the couch by the window— mindful that George could see him from that position— he pressed a hand against the cold glass. 

The late January air was well below freezing most days, but seemed to be especially cold that early morning. With a nervous glance over his shoulder, Alexander was shocked to see that George was well and truly not paying attention to what he did. 

Alexander let his mind wander as he drew senseless shapes in the window, though he never let his guard down too much. When another set of footfalls joined the peaceful morning sounds, Alexander startled once again. 

Martha came padding in, dressed for the day in casual clothes. She smiled at the boy, scooting in front of George at the stove, shooing the Alpha away. “How did you sleep, Alexander sweetheart?” She asked, pushing the eggs around in the pan. 

Eyes closed, he decided to take the risk and lie about his night. “Fine,” he muttered to her, not even sure if she would be able to hear him.

“Wonderful!” Obviously she had. “I assume you’re an early bird?” Martha didn’t stare as she questioned him, which he appreciated. As she spoke she began plating eggs and toast, then accepted chopped fruit from George. 

When the teenager didn’t answer her, she shrugged it off, and walked over to the breakfast table, setting down both of the plates in her hand. He frowned when George handed her another, and hunkered back against the windows when she came forward to set it on the coffee table in front of him. 

“Please eat, dear,” Martha instructed, setting a fork on the plate for him. “We’ve got a lot to discuss today, and we’ll need you feeling your best.” The talk. He knew this could only last for so long. 

“Yes ma’am.” Alexander still didn’t trust that the food was just being handed to him, but he would need it if he didn’t want to make a fool of himself. 

He swallowed down his nerves, and began to eat slowly, as much as his stomach would allow. Martha had given him two eggs, a piece of toast, and fresh fruit. It was more than he’d been given in a week at his last home when he’d first arrived. 

As he ate, he listened idly to the adults talk where they sat at the breakfast table, but nothing stood out too much. He figured they were editing their usual conversation so that he didn’t get more information than they wanted him to have. 

Alexander picked at his food the entire time that George and Martha ate, and still after they’d both cleared the table, rinsed their dishes, and George had gone back upstairs. He was fascinated by watching their dynamic and the way they worked.

At most of his previous houses, Alphas hadn’t lifted a finger to help around the house. Here— at least from what he’d seen so far— George did just as much as Martha. He hadn’t given a single order, or backed Alexander into a corner. He wasn’t sure what to think of it. 

By 06:00, the Alpha reappeared in a sharp suit, and was out the front door with a fond goodbye to his wife. That left Alexander alone, nervous, and still clutching a plate of cold food with Martha. Lafayette hadn’t yet emerged from upstairs, but there’d been no comment by either adult about it. 

“Are you finished, sweetheart?” Her calm voice startled him from his spiralling, and he narrowly managed to avoid dropping the plate. 

“Yes ma’am,” he rasped out, about to clear his throat and try again when Martha simply walked up, took the plate, then went to go begin cleaning it. The fact that he hadn’t been told to clean a single thing yet was baffling. 

“Would you come join me in the living room?” She spoke again after placing the plate in the dishwasher. Alexander looked up, and was shocked to see that she’d managed to grab his file, a planner, and a stack of papers without him having noticed. 

He rose on unsteady legs, trying desperately to calm his racing heart. He shuffled across the hardwood, sitting gently on the sofa, two cushions between where he and Martha sat. The elder Omega sat everything in her hands on the coffee table, fanning the papers out.

“I know this isn’t a conversation you want to have, Alexander,” she began softly, turning to the teenager. “But we need to iron a few things out.”

The young Omega swallowed hard. “Did I do something wrong, ma’am?” He asked shakily.

“Goodness, no,” Martha shook her head, pulling one of the papers out of the pile. “But there’s lots we need to discuss, and I figured we should do it all at once.” She handed the paper over, and Alexander quickly scanned it, his heart rate doubling when he saw it was the printout for a doctor’s appointment confirmation. 

“I know it’s a pain, dear, but we’re required by the state to take you to a doctor,” she shrugged. “You have an appointment set for later today. It’s a state appointed doctor, and unfortunately I don’t know them, but, if you’d like, your future care can be with our family doctor. Next up,” another paper, “school. 

“I know you just turned 16, and moving schools can’t be easy, but I wanted to discuss options with you.” Alexander took a deep breath, preparing himself. Omegas weren’t required to continue schooling past age 16 in the state of Virginia.

“Gilbert attends a cyber school to keep up with his busy riding schedule, and to allow flexibility since both George and I work such odd hours.” Alexander bit his lip and decided to take a risk. 

“What do you do, ma’am?” He interrupted hesitantly, gripping the couch cushion. 

“Oh! I assumed you’d been told,” Martha laughed lightly. “George is a U.S. Senator, and I’m an anesthesiologist,” she exposed, missing Alexander’s look of shock as she shuffled through the papers. 

“Now, back to school,” she seemed unperturbed by his silence. “You would be more than welcome to join in the same cyber school as Gilbert, or you could attend the local high school. I’m afraid we insist you continue schooling, that is a nonnegotiable subject.” Alexander’s head snapped up, and a small glimmer of hope was born in his chest. 

“Can I- can I think about it?” He asked, not sure if he wanted to be alone all day with the Washingtons. School meant teachers who he could talk to if things went south. They could get him out. But it also meant oppressive peers, bullies, and harassment. He’d never been offered an alternative.

“Of course, dear,” Martha gave him a soft smile, and set a brochure next to him on the couch, along with a paper catalogue. “These are the classes they offer, and a bit about the cyber school if you want to look through them. Gilbert does his work between 08:30 and 1:30, Monday through Thursday. If you decide you’d like to attend public school both Gilbert’s boyfriend and a very close friend would be there as well.” 

Alexander gave a nod and tucked the paper under his thigh. 

“I just have a few more things, sweetheart, I promise. You need some new clothes, dear,” Alexander flushed in shame. His clothes were threadbare, theirs were most definitely not. “Would you be willing to go to the store? You can absolutely say no.”

“I don’t have to?” He asked, peering over at Martha curiously. 

“Of course not, no,” Martha insisted. “I can take your measurements, you can write down your preferences, and anything I get you don’t like will be taken back.”

“That please,” Alexander’s voice was barely audible. He wasn’t going to turn down that offer, even if he had a feeling it wouldn’t actually happen. 

“Then we’ll do that, dear. Do you want to write any preferences down for me?” He shook his head. “No you don’t want to, or no you don’t have any?” He hesitated, then shrugged. “Alright, Alexander. 

“Last thing for today, then I’ll leave you be. I need to know when your heats are, and if they’ve regulated yet,” she gave a small smile in apology when Alexander went beet red.

The teenager swallowed hard once, twice before he could speak. “Why?” He asked simply, not giving an answer yet. 

“So that we can be prepared, dear,” Martha answered kindly. “So that we can provide everything you’ll need ahead of time.” 

“Everything I’ll need?” Alexander asked, letting go of the couch cushion in lieu for his own thighs, nails digging in harshly. 

“Blankets, any nesting material you want, foods that don’t need refrigeration, whatever you need,” she explained in a patient voice. 

“You’ll give me that stuff?” He asked, a hope he wished he could crush in his voice. 

“Alexander, have you not been provided for in heats before?” She asked, reaching a hand over to ease his grip, but retreating when he flinched back. 

Alexander didn’t answer her question, just closed his eyes and fought the flush on his cheeks. 

“You’ll be taken care of here, dear. That includes taking care of more than just basic necessities.”

“You’ll let me nest?” The question was quiet, half mumbled. 

“Any time.” Had his eyes not been closed, he would have seen the soft smile on Martha’s face. “We did our best to make both the bedrooms you could have chosen Omega friendly, I do hope it helped you settle in a bit last night.”

“Omega friendly?” Alexander finally opened his eyes, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“The silk sheets, the soft bedspread. Your towels, as well. Alexander, did you not notice anything?” She didn’t sound upset, but he still curled in on himself further. 

“I, um, I’m sorry ma’am.” He didn’t have a lie to tell that would be good enough. 

“Don’t apologise, dear, it’s not anything bad. Did you sleep alright?” Again, his cheeks flushed as he looked away. 

“Let me rephrase,” Martha tried again, “did you sleep last night?”

He knew when he’d been caught. “No ma’am.” 

Martha gave a sigh and moved closer. When a hand passed in front of his face, the young Omega moved back sharply, but was shocked when the touch turned into Martha simply cupping both of his cheeks. 

“I understand it must be difficult and different here, but we only want the best for you. I’d like for you to take a shower, and I imagine Gilbert gave you something soft to sleep in. While you nap I’ll wash any clothes you have, so they’re fresh for when you wake up.”

“Nap?” Those were _never_ allowed, not in a single one of his past homes. He’d learned to just deal, to keep going through the exhaustion. 

“A nap, yes,” Martha confirmed, soft thumb stroking over his left cheek. “But before you go, I still need to know the dates you burn,” she gave an apologetic look to him. 

“I b-burn… I start my cycle around the 20th of February and August,” he admitted, seeing no way to avoid the truth. He had less than a month before the next one would hit. 

“Thank you, Alexander. Go on now,” Martha stepped back, dropping their contact, “just set any clothes you have outside of your door, I’ll get them clean as fast as possible,” she assured. 

Alexander took the hint, stood, and strode away without another word. He wondered if he would be able to sleep, or if it would be pointless in trying. His room was exactly as he’d left it, and he distantly wondered if Lafayette was even awake. It was only 06:22, the sun hadn’t even peaked over the horizon yet. 

After a momentary internal debate, the Omega left the door open completely, figuring Martha would check to make sure he’d followed orders. He hesitated, uncomfortable with undressing in an open doorway but seeing no way around it. Slowly stripping from his dirty clothing, Alexander folded each article carefully, and set them on a pile in the middle of the doorway. 

When he pulled his other set of clothes from the backpack, the Omega gave a choked sob. He was lucky to have two complete changes of clothes. The second house he’d lived in had punished him by taking every article of clothing, and he hated the fact that he was so easily giving Martha the opportunity. 

The only calming thought was that he had at least been given a set of pyjamas, if nothing else. It would have to do. 

The pile of items and clothes that Lafayette had given him still sat, untouched, on the floor, wrapped up tight in a fluffy towel. With a sigh, Alexander picked everything there up carefully, and made his way into the bathroom for the first time. 

He set each item on the long counter, laying the folded clothes and towel out on the raised tiles around the bathtub. Just looking around the bathroom was intimidating. It was more than he’d ever had. Hell, it was half the size of his mother's entire house. 

The shower was tucked into the corner next to the soaker tub, and he was sure he could spread his arms out and spin without touching a wall inside of it. 

Going back to the task at hand, Alexander turned every bath product so that he could read the labels, and was shocked at what he found. Not only were there things like real shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, but there were also lotions, and something called a body polish that he’d never even heard of.

And all of them were labelled either for extra sensitive skin or Omegas. 

All Alexander had been using for weeks was a single bar of abrasive soap he’d managed to steal from a past foster brother and tuck away. It had left him dry, and there was a rash from the chemicals spreading on the soft skin of his thighs and stomach.

As much as he didn’t want to accept their charity and be in debt, the thought of using products made for him was too much to resist. The Omega bit his lip, and decided he would take the risk and lock the bathroom door. He wouldn’t be able to force himself to shower with it open. The door was closed and locked with a soft _click._

Alexander gathered the bath products from the counter and pushed the glass door to the shower open with a shiver. It only took a few seconds to figure out the faucet, and soon enough he was being soaked with freezing water.

It warmed him to the bone as the water heated, but didn’t stop the shivering. 

~

The towel, like Martha had told him, was incredibly soft to the touch, friction warm against his already heated skin. The bath products had been as gentle as the bottles promised, and he was left without an itchy feeling after showering for the first time in months. Maybe years.

Biting his lip in indecision, he made the impulsive decision to apply the lotion that had been provided. It smelled strongly of vanilla and felt silky on his skin. He wondered if it would help clear the irritation rash. 

Next was the challenge of clothing. Lafayette had given him a sweatshirt and flannel pants, but no underwear. _Best to just rip the bandaid off and let it happen,_ he decided. 

The fabric was soft and smooth, the sweatshirt hanging off his frame like it could fit three of him. If it didn’t smell like laundry detergent, he was sure he would smell Lafayette on it. 

He couldn’t stall any longer, and crept from the bathroom, letting the built-up steam pour into the bedroom. His dirty clothes were still folded on the floor, untouched. 

Alexander didn’t want to sleep on the bed, but had a feeling Martha wouldn’t let him get away with the floor. Sucking in a sharp breath, he pulled the comforter back and slipped between the covers carefully. 

As promised, the sheets were silken, and the down blanket encased in a velvety polar fleece cover. Even the pillows were covered in silk cases, some fluffy and some more firm— all filled with feathers instead of stuffing. 

It was overwhelming, the amount of care that had been put into setting the bed up for a proper Omega. Alexander didn’t even know if he would be able to sleep, wrapped up tight in such a comfortable environment. 

He knew he had to try, though, and when footsteps began to ascend the staircase and approach his room he snapped his eyes shut, hunkering down. The Omega knew how to fake sleep very well. 

When a soft tap sounded on what he assumed was the door frame, Alexander kept on pretending. Even when the intruder approached and stroked a hand down his cheek, he managed not to move an inch. Martha’s rosewater scent wafted towards him.

She left a moment later, and Alexander was left to fake sleep until he actually slipped into blissful unconsciousness. 

~

Alexander woke when the sun was much higher in the sky, making the room bright, and his eyes hurt. The bedside clock read out 3:30, which meant he’d been asleep for almost eight and a half hours without interruption. 

A quick shuffle told him that his clothes were all still intact and completely on. 

The bedroom door had been pulled shut by someone, though not completely. He wondered if Martha was trying to see if he would behave and open it, or if she really didn’t mind. 

It took Alexander longer than he’d like to admit to be able to drag himself out of the bed, but when he finally did his first move was to open the door again. His laundry was gone. 

It made sense, he knew Martha had come inside to check on him, at least once. She must have been good for her word and taken them with her. He hoped to wash. 

He was sans socks and underwear, in pants that were too tight in the hips and a sweater that would fall off with a slight draft. But he had to go downstairs. 

The hardwood in the hallway was cold on his feet, but offered something to focus on. The Omega was making good progress in his descent, he liked to think. At least, he was moving.

Until halfway down the back staircase he heard a low, booming laugh that belonged to none of his new hosts. 

In a sudden, cold sweat, Alexander booked it back the way he’d come, intent to avoid whatever he would be forced into for as long as possible. 

It wasn’t a question if he should or shouldn’t close the door this time. The heavy wood slammed shut, and clicked with the lock falling into place. He dove back into the bed, pulled the covers over his head, and tried not to fall apart as screams and sobs tried to shake his body apart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed some things last minute that didn’t get run by the betas, so blame mistakes on me this time! 
> 
> I don’t really have any cool facts to go with this chapter. But eventually they’ll be abundant. 
> 
> Sorry for all the filler this chapter.
> 
> Come yell at my on [my Tumblr](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com/)


	3. Day 2 (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a typo in my summary until now, wow.
> 
> I’ve done schoolwork for one fucking class, y’all. I need to work on that, but this has taken over my life!
> 
> Let me know how you like this chapter! I can never tell what people are going to be bored by or not. 
> 
> Thank you to my lovely betas.
> 
> So, enjoy almost 6k of my bs.

**Thursday, Jan. 25, 2018**

Martha had been standing in the kitchen, working on cleaning up Lafayette and Hercules’ after-school feast at 3:30, as well as Snipe’s mess from his own lunch. Both boys had ended up on the couch, the former having poked and prodded at his boyfriend until he’d been forced into Hercules’ lap and made to sit still as they watched something on TV. 

Martha had always enjoyed watching their dynamic together. At first, when her son had brought another Alpha home and introduced him as a serious boyfriend she’d been skeptical. Only because she wanted her son to be happy, and not hurt if the clash of dominance couldn’t be worked out. 

But she’d been pleasantly proven wrong in barely any time. They had meshed together as partners as well as any conventional pair she’d seen, and that was the end of her worrying. From what she could see of the living room from where she stood, Lafayette had attempted to stand, gotten stuck, and fallen flat on the floor. Hercules’ loud laugh filled the open space in response. 

Martha hadn’t heard Alexander’s descent on the stairs behind the kitchen, but she _definitely_ heard his ascent, the door slam shut upstairs, and his scream. She immediately dropped the silverware in her hands back into the sink. 

“Stay here!” Martha barked at the teenagers, rushing out of the kitchen and up the back staircase. As expected, Alexander’s door was shut tight, and she suspected it was locked as well. Her heart hurt as she heard rough sobs through the wood. 

“Alexander,” she called softly, rapping on the door thrice. “Alexander, are you alright?” The sobs stopped briefly, and an ear-piercing scream rang through the air. 

“No, no!” The young Omega yelled out, “please don’t make me, I'll be good!” 

His voice was broken with the force of his cries, and inside the room Alexander was clawing at the sheets with one hand, and his own hair with the other. The pain was grounding, but nowhere near enough. 

Someone was talking to him outside, but he couldn’t focus on their words. Couldn’t tell who was there, even. 

The doorknob jiggled, and Alexander let loose another scream, kept it going as the seconds ticked by. He screamed until his lungs burned for oxygen, and he was forced to gulp for breath. 

Martha went from concerned to frantic, and outright pounded on the door. “Alexander, please open the door. You’re _safe!_ ” She spoke loudly enough to pierce the fog of his mind, and Alexander slowly released the grip he had on his own hair. 

The teenager rubbed at his flushed cheeks, swiping the streaming tears in the process. Alexander's throat was raw from his fit, hiccups shaking his chest every few seconds. 

“Martha?” He asked hesitantly, wincing at the pain it caused in his vocal cords. 

“Yes, dear, it’s Martha. I need you to open the door for me, to make sure you’re okay,” Martha had immediately reverted back to her calm, collected tone since she didn’t have to fight for volume.

Alexander frowned, took a shaky breath, and went to get out of the bed. He couldn’t make his legs move. 

“I-I can’t,” his cheeks burned, both at having freaked out and for his lack of control. “I can’t m-move!” Said lack of control was beginning to ramp up his panic once more. 

“It’s okay, deep breaths. I’ll go and get the key, but I need to know you’re okay before I step away. You’ll be alright?”

He thought for a moment, and focused on just wiggling his toes. When he had enough control to do so, the fire in his nervous system began to lessen. 

“I’ll be okay.” He would be surprised if Martha heard him, but she must have, he thought, when her footfalls became fainter. 

Martha returned a moment later, and slowly unlocked the door, drawing out her motions so that Alexander would have ample warning. The woman looked concerned when she stepped inside, and immediately the teenager felt guilty. 

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, pulling the comforter further on himself despite how sweaty both he and the sheets were. 

“Shh,” Martha knelt by the side of the bed and took one of his hands in both of hers. “You don’t have to be sorry for being scared. What gave you such a fright?” 

Alexander squeezed his eyes shut, a few late tears streaking his already messy cheeks. He barely managed to keep still when she released one of her hands and tucked a lock of long hair behind his ear. 

“I heard… I heard someone downstairs,” his voice cracked on the last word. “I thought-” he cut himself off.

“You thought…” Martha prompted, thumb stroking the back of his hand. 

Alexander shook his head, knowing he wouldn’t be able to get the words out. Martha didn’t press. Instead, she cupped his cheek softly, pressed at the bag under his left eye. 

“It’s alright, dear. You don’t have to say anything you’re not comfortable with. No matter, it’s only Gilbert’s boyfriend Hercules that you heard.” The teenager didn’t understand how she was so patient.

“Are you going to,” _hiccup_ , “going to tell George?”

“I have nothing to tell him,” the woman smiled softly. “Besides, George knows that everyone has a past, and sometimes it can impact our lives,” she patted his cheek. “Now, would you like to join us downstairs, since you know who it is?” 

Alexander wondered if she would let him get away with hiding away until the intruder left, but decided not to push his luck. If they were going based on time, _he_ was the intruder. Instead of answering, he gave a timid nod. 

“Wonderful,” she still didn’t let go of his cheek or hand. “Hercules is a lovely young man, you don’t have to worry about him.”

Another nod, and he sat up further, letting the blanket fall to his lap. 

“I’m sorry, your clothes aren’t done yet. I had to run them through again to get the fabric nice and soft for you,” Martha apologised, gripped his hand tighter for a moment, and then stood to back off. 

“You don’t mind me wearing this?” Alexander gestured to the grossly oversized top and tacky flannel bottoms. He figured she would be mortified by the clothing, especially if George saw him in them. 

But Martha just smiled and shook her head. “You can wear whatever, dear. I know those aren’t ideal, but we’ll take your measurements tonight and order you plenty of new clothes.”

“I don’t need much, ma’am,” he protested weakly, nails biting into his own wrist. _Shouldn’t have said anything._

“Nonsense!” Martha exclaimed, leaning back against the doorframe. “You need more than a couple of changes of clothes, and we’ll make sure to get them for you. You’re still sure you don’t have a preference in clothing?”

Alexander was going to shake his head without a second thought, but something about how Martha had handled his fit made him take pause. She had given him all the patience in the world, managed to cut his panic short with kind words.

“Comfortable?” He asked shyly, letting go of his top in favour of thumbing at the silk sheet. “Soft things?”

“Of course,” Martha gave him an incredibly warm smile. “I’ll buy the softest things I can. Come on now dear, let’s go downstairs. I left the boys unsupervised, and that almost never ends well,” she gave a laugh, waiting where she stood. 

Not wanting to push her any more than he already had, the teen rushed to stand, stumbling twice in his hurry to get Martha. Without a comment on his blush at the lack of coordination, she turned and led him back down the stairs, glancing occasionally to make sure he was still following. 

To her surprise, both Hercules and Lafayette were in almost the same places as she’d left them. Though her son had managed to get back up off the floor. 

Upon her next glance at Alexander, Martha discovered he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. She paused in stride and let him catch up, keeping the nervous Omega by her side in the kitchen so that he would feel less exposed. 

“Alexander, this is Hercules Mulligan,” Martha gestured to the dark-skinned Alpha, sitting delicately on the loveseat vertical to the large couch both Alphas were on. The Omega was still extremely skittish, but took a seat beside her nonetheless. 

“Great to meet you, Laf’s been talking my ear off all day,” Hercules exclaimed, but notably stayed rooted to his seat. Martha assumed her son had filled him in on what not to do when interacting with Alexander. 

The young Omega gave a small, tense smile, raised his hand, and waved once. He picked nervously at the sweatshirt’s edge again. 

“Will you be alright if I start on dinner?” Martha spoke softly to Alexander, shifting her body to give the illusion of privacy. “I’ll be right in the kitchen.”

Again, Alexander paused before answering. The woman was ecstatic at the progress he was showing in less than twenty-four hours. When he gave a slight nod, she squeezed his hand once more. 

After Martha was gone, even if she was only behind a wall, Alexander closed himself off from both Alphas. He pulled his feet up on the loveseat, put his head down, and focused on not letting himself freak out again. 

“Our friend John was supposed to be joining us for dinner,” Lafayette interrupted the silence, “but his father called him home at the last minute.”

“Called is a nice word,” Hercules grumbled. Alexander looked up in time to see the massive Alpha pull at Lafayette, hooking his chin over a slim shoulder once in reach. The Omega’s eyes widened. 

He’d seen Omegas take other Omegas as nestmates before without too much trouble. But the only time he’d seen Alphas be so okay with touch had gotten a foster brother of his beaten half to death. According to Mr. Warren, the practice of same-gender— primary or secondary— couples was ungodly. 

When Lafayette tucked his nose into Hercules’ neck, Alexander shifted his gaze to the wall that separated the kitchen and the living room. Martha had said they were dating while upstairs. He hadn’t stopped to think about the logistics of it; he had assumed his Omega partner had a deep voice. 

That didn’t give him much hope, though. Lafayette was their son, his own coming out would be a very different situation if he ever decided to. He’d learned that lesson at another past home. Multiple times. His back ached at the memory, scars that haunted much more than skin deep. 

“This bothers you?” Lafayette spoke up, cracking an eye open to stare at Alexander. 

It was starting to have been caught staring, though he was technically watching above their heads, and Alexander’s gaze snapped to the floor. _They can smell your nerves, dumbass._

“George doesn’t mind?” He asked instead of answering. He’d be a hypocrite if he said it did, as well as a filthy liar. But saying no was a risk. 

“George doesn’t give a shit what we do ‘s long as we don’t knock anyone up or get arrested,” Hercules responded, chuckling when a soft _‘language’_ came from the kitchen. 

“I would have no friends if they were homophobic. I’d have no home,” Lafayette shrugged nonchalantly, laying further over his boyfriend’s lap, head on the armrest. 

Alexander stayed quiet after that declaration, tucking his head into his knees once more. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information. If what he said was true, it seemed to be the safest place he’d been since his mother. 

Martha found him like that not much time later, pressed tightly in a ball in the corner of the loveseat. He was quick to take his feet off the furniture. 

“Unfortunately, Alexander, we still have your appointment to make in a half-hour,” Martha held out his file, which he knew would contain all prior medical treatment. 

The teen’s glance down to his own state of dress gave her pause. “Gilbert, do you have any of John’s clothes that he’s left here? I think Alexander would be more comfortable in street clothes.”

Lafayette groaned, but straightened up when Hercules whispered something into his ear. He gave a sloppy salute, and marched off towards the staircase, Hercules hot on his heels.

Martha gave a sigh at the dramatics. “It’s like they think they’re discrete,” she sat again, this time on the couch where her son had been before. 

“We haven’t read this, Alexander,” Martha stated, opening it to the cover page. He’d read it— all that was inside of it was negative comment after negative comment, seven different reasons he’d been kicked out of past homes. Maybe he’d been right and Martha wasn’t allowed to read it. 

“We discussed it last night before bed,” she explained, “and figured we wanted to give you control over what we knew. So I want you to go through and take out all of your medical information, and you get to keep the rest.” Alexander was beyond shocked as she closed the file and slid the folder across the coffee table.

The young Omega was hesitant to touch it. Most foster parents were very protective over kid’s’ files for some reason. When he did reach out and take the folder into his lap, he didn’t open it. Looked to Martha for reassurance that it was okay, or scolding for taking the bait. 

Her nod let him open the file and stare at the numbers paper clipped to the front cover. He pulled them off and set them on the table. Best to give the Washingtons an out without having to find the numbers if he took them. 

Since his insurance coverage was elsewhere, he assumed Martha already had it, and only focused on finding the records. Flipping through the pages, each of his past placements came back to mind. 

_Danielson, Harvey, Hendrix, McKenzie,_ the names flashed on the pages in alphabetical order, _Nolan, Warren, Williams_. Finally, he reached his medical history in the back. It was just as ugly as the names. 

There was a long list of injuries, each one blamed on a fight that he’d caused, or an accident. Broken and bruised bones, lacerations in need of stitches, staples, and glue. All in the span of just under two and a half years. 

Blinking back tears as the reminders came flooding back, Alexander opened the rings that held each paper in place, and slid the two sheets of old injuries from the folder. Instead of placing them on the table, he handed them directly to Martha. He didn’t want to touch them any more than necessary.

The timing ended up being perfect, as Lafayette and Hercules re-emerged from the back stairwell, Lafayette slightly more disheveled than when he’d left and Hercules with a swollen smirk. Martha only shook her head when she saw them. 

Much to Alexander’s relief, there was a small stack of clothes in Lafayette’s hands. He picked them up immediately when the Alpha dropped the pile on the coffee table, and stood. 

“Go change, sweetheart, then we’ll get going.” He nodded, took the instructions, and speed-walked to the powder room in the back stairwell. 

Once locked inside, he examined the outfit he’d been handed. A soft, navy blue jumper, a pair of stretchy jeans, and— thankfully— socks and underwear. He wondered, briefly, if John was shared by Lafayette and Hercules. It would make sense that he left clothes at his Alpha’s house. 

As everything in this house seemed to be, the clothes were soft and smooth on his skin. He was glad the jeans stretched, because the fit on his hips and thighs was still too tight. Alexander folded his discarded pyjamas and carried them out of the bathroom with him. 

With instructions from Martha for him to leave them at the door to the basement and an over the shoulder comment to Lafayette and Hercules to behave, Martha and Alexander were on the road. 

~

Their car ride was silent, not for a lack of trying on Martha’s part. As soon as they’d hit the road Alexander had shut down, not even answering with shrugs and nods. 

The pediatricians’ office was only 20 minutes away, but to Alexander it felt like both a lifetime and the blink of an eye at the same time. His head hurt from the stress. 

The building itself wasn’t intimidating, down a back road and surrounded by trees. But what was inside, and his past experiences with doctors, made for nerves no matter how serene things seemed. 

“Come on, dear,” Martha instructed once she’d parked, collecting all of her paperwork before stepping out of the black Subaru. Alexander took a second to collect himself, then followed. 

Martha led the way with practiced ease into the office, chatting amicably with the woman at the front desk. Alexander zoned out almost immediately, focused solely on keeping his breathing at a steady rate. He counted ten seconds between each, timed by the hand of a clock on the wall. 

He knew Martha was filling out his paperwork, had been through this routine plenty of times before. Soon enough, a nurse was calling him back. When Martha didn’t stand with him, Alexander looked back in confusion. 

“Would you like me to come with you, or stay here?” She asked, low enough that the couple of other people in the waiting room wouldn’t hear. “It’s entirely your decision, but I thought you might be more comfortable talking about anything you need to without me there.”

For the millionth time that day alone, Alexander was stunned into silence by her thoughtfulness. He chewed his lip, sucking at the drop of blood that appeared when he broke a cut on the inside waterline. 

“Come with me?” He finally asked after his hesitation, stuffing both hands into the pockets of John’s borrowed jeans. Somehow, Martha seemed safer than the professionals he was about to meet. 

With a soft, _“of course,”_ Martha walked behind him, both following the bored-looking nurse. 

“Shoes off, back against the stick,” she pointed to the measuring stick with her pen, setting the clipboard with his name on it down. The Omega did as instructed, and backed himself against the wall. The nurse tutted at his height, scribbling 165.1cm down on the paper. 

“Step onto the scale,” she instructed next, pressing a button to turn the machine on. _111lbs_ , it read out, and when Alexander glanced at Martha she was pale white. 

“Have a seat,” the nurse’s voice was still uninterested, but the young omega didn’t dare hesitate beyond putting his shoes back on. The nurse pulled a thermometer and blood pressure cuff out, waiting for him to open his mouth. When Alexander zeroed in on the probe and clenched his jaw, she gave a heavy sigh. 

“Open your mouth, young man,” the woman instructed firmly. For the first time since Martha had met him he didn’t comply. She could see the muscle over his Temporomandibular joint bulge with the strain. His eyes were wide with a sudden fear. 

“Easy, Alexander,” without a second thought Martha dropped to the floor next to the boy’s chair and grabbed both of his hands. Alexander’s gaze shifted from the thermometer to the other Omega, her presence forcing him to ignore the Beta nurse and probe. 

“What’s wrong?” She asked, “is putting it in your mouth too much?” He wondered what good deed he’d done to deserve Martha. But even she would reach her breaking point with him eventually. 

“Please don’t make- please don’t put it in my mouth,” his jaw was still clenched, attention drawn from Martha when the nurse let out another long exhalation. 

“Let’s move this along, we don’t have all night young man,” she— _Aliyah Elkan_ , her name tag read— snapped at him. 

Martha went red in the face. 

“Is there somewhere here who could come and replace your duties?” She stood, getting in the woman’s face despite being a good six inches shorter. “I do not believe you’re fit to be here at the moment.”

The nurse looked flustered at being called out, but huffed and stepped away nonetheless. As soon as she was gone, Martha dropped back to the floor. 

“You didn’t have to,” when the nurse, the threat, was gone he began to calm down immediately. “She’s right, it’s stupid, I just need to do it.” The older woman shook his hands again. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” she soothed. “They have ear thermometers, I don’t see a reason why that can’t be used.”

Alexander curled in on himself in the seat, shaking as he pressed his forehead to Martha’s shoulder. He was getting too attached already. 

For Martha’s part, she simply wrapped her arms around him slowly, giving ample warning and space to pull away backward. He didn’t, just let her tighten her arms and use the pressure to chase his panic away. 

By the time a new nurse walked up he was much calmer. She was smaller than the previous woman, an Omega with mousy features. Much of Martha’s stress over another nurse dissipated when she wasted no time in getting down on Alexander’s level. 

“Hello Alexander, my name is Nima,” she offered her hand, waiting patiently for the boy to lift his head off of Martha’s shoulder. To his own surprise, he offered his back, keeping it limp as the nurse shook it. 

“Now, can you tell me why Aliyah asked for me to take over her duties?” 

“I can’t put the thermometer in my mouth,” he choked on the last word, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“Come, now, it’s no trouble,” Nima shuffled back on her knees, waiting until Alexander’s full attention was on her. “We can use the tympanic thermometer in your ear, or the probe under your arm. Which would you be more comfortable with?”

A second’s pause passed before Alexander spoke. “Ear?” He asked more than told. Nima gave an encouraging smile, stood for a moment, and got back onto the floor with the instrument. 

“This’ll only take a few seconds, and it won’t hurt at all,” she promised, movements slow. As expected, Alexander tried to move away when the cold plastic touched the shell of his ear. Martha’s palm cupped his cheek, keeping him somewhat still. He hated that the thought of bolting ran through his head. 

Nima hadn’t lied, within seven seconds— alright, maybe he counted— it was out, and the nurse was on her feet writing down what it showed. 

“Blood pressure is that last thing, and then we can get you into a room,” Nima explained. “I’ll need you to sit straight, both feet on the floor. But your mom can still hold your right hand.” Alexander didn’t correct her, he thought that Martha would. No one wanted that kind of permanent claim on him. 

He moved into the desired position, glancing at Martha out of the corner of his eyes every few seconds, still waiting.

She didn’t say anything. 

When the blood pressure cuff tightened on his arm and Nima pressed a stethoscope to the skin, Alexander tightened his grip on Martha’s hand slightly. He didn’t want to have to redo it if he locked his muscles in place. 

In the next few minutes Nima finished up writing in his chart, led him into a room, and stopped Martha at the door. Panic seized his chest. 

“I’m going to need you to change into a gown for me, Alexander,” the nurse instructed, pointing out a folded hospital gown on the exam table. “Just knock on the door when you’re finished, your mom and I can come inside and I’ve got some questions for you.”

She closed the door on him softly and cocked one hip against the wall after turning to Martha. 

Martha gave a sheepish smile. “I should clarify some things. Alexander is a foster child, and we’re not really sure what he’s been through. The nurse before you was… harsh, you could say, when he freaked out a little over the thermometer going in his mouth.”

“Oh dear,” Nima frowned. “That’s concerning. I’m trained to deal with autistic children. Miss Elkan said he was being too difficult for her to deal with.”

“He…,” a sigh, “he got scared. My husband and I, we’re letting him open up on his own terms, which unfortunately means that we’re in the dark on most of his triggers. Thank you for giving him your patience.” When Martha was finished speaking, a soft rap came from the other side of the door. As Martha opened it, she caught the last of Alexander scrambling backward towards the exam table. 

She and Nima entered, the nurse shutting the door behind them and immediately moving to the computer. Martha sat in one of the two seats next to the computer desk and watched as Alexander had to hop to sit on the crinkly-topped table. 

“Alright, Alexander, I need your birth date,” Nima smiled at him, ready to type. 

“January 11th, 2002,” he spouted mechanically.

Nima nodded, typing away. Over the next few minutes Alexander answered each question without emotion, looking lost in space. When she was finished, the nurse shook both his and Martha’s hands and then left quickly. They’d been told that the doctor would be in shortly. 

“If there’s anything you need to talk about alone, you’re more than welcome to ask me to step outside,” Martha interrupted the silence. “It’s your health, and you have the right to your privacy.” The teen just nodded at her words, eyes glued to the door. 

They sat in a stale quiet, punctuated only by the ticking of a wall clock, for nearly a half an hour. Finally, a strong knock startled the boy out of his reverie. The doctor walked in briskly and immediately Alexander was slammed with the thick scent of agitated Alpha. It went so far as to make Martha shift in her seat at the stench. 

“Birthdate?” The doctor asked while staring at the chart in hand. Alexander gave the information, tense in his place. 

“I’m Doctor Eelis,” he looked at Martha, frowned. “Was your Alpha not available to bring him?” Immediately Martha threw her defences up. 

“Senator Washington is in D.C. today, and I’m more than capable of taking Alexander to a doctors appointment.” The doctor didn’t bother retorting, just mumbled something Martha didn't catch. 

“I’ve got some questions for you,” he flipped through the papers on his clipboard. “Why are you here today?”

“The state requires it,” he rasped out. The doctor wrote something. 

“Do you do any recreational drugs, drink alcohol, or take prescription medication?”

“No,” Alexander answered emphatically, looking directly at Martha as he said it. 

“Is there a history of heart or lung disease, chronic illness, autoimmune disorders, or cancer on your mother or father’s side of the family?” Alexander’s shoulder slumped.

“I don’t know,” his reply was quiet, heavy with emotion. 

“You don’t know?” Doctor Eelis looked up to Alexander and rolled his eyes. “How do you not know?”

The young Omega pulled his knees up to his chest, resting a cheek on them. “My dad left. Might not’ve even been my dad,” he snorted. “Mom’s dead.” 

The doctor scribbled something harshly, plopping down on the spinning chair at the desk. 

“Have you had any previous surgeries?” Alexander glanced down at his wrist, rubbing the bones. 

“I don’t know if it counts, but they had to reset my wrist surgically,” he shrugged, looking defeated when the doctor snorted. 

“Any allergies to medications?” The boy just shook his head this time.

“Lastly, are you now sexually active, or have you been in the past?” Alexander’s entire body tensed, head whipping to look at Martha again. His hands were sweaty enough to be ripping through the paper table cover. 

“I… I was.” He sounded ashamed, but the look practically tripled when Doctor Eelis sneered. 

“Did you bring this one here because your husband needed a reason to send him back?” The Alpha didn’t look at Martha as he spoke. To her it just wasn’t worth the effort of fighting this losing battle with the man.

“Excuse you,” she still couldn’t help herself, “I brought Alexander here because of state law.”

“So your husband is fine tarnishing his image with a whore in the household?” Martha was beside herself with anger. 

“Your opinions have nothing to do with our lives outside of this office.” She lowered her voice when Alexander started to tear up. “How Alexander chooses to live his life is not your issue.”

The doctor looked absolutely outraged that Martha had stood up for Alexander and herself. He quickly signed one of the papers on the desk in front of him, slid it at the woman, and abruptly stood. 

“That paper should satisfy the state,” he clipped, “please leave this office. We are a traditional clinic and don’t tolerate this kind of misbehaviour. 

The door slammed shut, and Martha was on her feet, moving to comfort the silently crying boy. 

“Relax, sweetheart, we won’t be coming back here,” she cooed, tucking his tangled hair behind one ear.

“I-I’ll pack my- pack my bag as soon as- as soon as we get back.” With the doctor gone, Alexander let himself fall apart, sobs interrupting his sentence at every turn. 

“Why are you packing your bag? We’re not sending you anywhere.” Martha asked, cupping his cheek with the other hand still brushing his hair. 

“You’re no-” hiccup, “you’re not?”

“No, dear. I think there’s been a misconception here. We weren’t looking to foster.” She realised how her words sounded when more tears flooded down Alexander’s cheeks. 

“That came out wrong. We’re looking for someone to bring into our family. More permanently.”

“You mean adopt?” He looked confused, and it broke Martha’s heart all over again. 

“Yes, adopt. If you want to stay, and all goes well, we want to bring you into our family for good.”

~

That night at dinner Alexander was silent. He picked at his food, kept an eye on Hercules, George, and Lafayette, and stayed tucked away. The bird also joined them on a stand by the dinner table, which almost made Alexander crack a smile, and the four dogs were once again put outside for their own food. 

Their meal was vegetable stew, garlic roasted broccoli, and Swiss chard salad. For the second night in a row, Alexander was allowed to serve himself, and given permission to take as much as he pleased. His plate was still barely enough for George not to say anything more about the portion size.

If Alexander thought George and Lafayette ate a lot, their plates paled in comparison to Hercules’. The young Alpha had fourths by the end of it all. 

~

They all migrated to the basement after dinner, which was the first time Alexander had been down there. It was just as incredible as the rest of the house, he saw quickly. Straight off the stairwell was a seating area, but Lafayette— in the lead and dragging Hercules behind him by a hand— led them all down a hallway to their left.

He opened the second door on the right, and Alexander stopped dead in his tracks. Of course these people had a home movie theatre. It dawned on him that Martha had offered popcorn. 

The room was laid out with four couches facing the wall to his left, which housed the largest screen he’d ever seen outside of a real movie theatre. Two of the couches were sectionals, tucked into the back corners, while the other two were on a diagonal. 

George and Martha claimed one of the diagonal couches— there seemed to be bird perches in every room, and the macaw had happily ridden down on Martha’s hand; the dogs had followed behind—, Lafayette and Hercules claimed a sectional. Alexander took the other sectional couch for himself. It let him see everyone in the room easily and still offered a good view of the screen.

“What’s tonight’s selection?” George looked over his shoulder, and Alexander followed his gaze to the remote in Lafayette’s hand. 

“National Treasure, I am on a Nicolas Cage marathon,” Lafayette responded, turning to face his new foster brother. “Have you seen it before?” 

“I haven’t seen much,” the Omega averted his gaze so that he didn’t have to look at any of them. Martha already pitied him, so why attract more of it?

“We will change that quickly!” The French Alpha pressed a few buttons, and the movie intro started to play. “We have movie nights together every week.” 

~

Alexander had been interested in the movie, he really had. Most hosts didn’t really let him have this much leisure time. But crying, throwing tantrums, and stress had really taken it out of him. Somehow, even surrounded in an enclosed space, in the presence of three huge Alphas, he slowly began to nod off. 

It started gradually, but by the time Ben Gates got to Independence Hall he’d nodded off almost completely. The rest of the movie was fuzzy in his memory, big chunks of the plot missing completely, and the rest running together in his mind. 

When the movie was over, he was dead to the world. 

Martha walked up to the couch he was passed out on and shook his shoulder gently. The young Omega didn’t respond. A few tries later, Martha realised that he wasn’t going to be waking up from her attempts. She was happier than she should’ve been, really. It meant he felt at least a little bit safe. 

She thought about her options, how they could move him, and make the process as smooth as possible. 

The woman knew that George would be her first option, but Alexander was petrified around him. Waking up covered in her husband’s scent couldn’t end well. Lafayette could carry him, but two sets of stairs were a lot, and her son was lean. She was left with Hercules, and waved the teen over as soon as the decision had been made. 

“Would you carry Alexander up to his room for us, dear?” She asked him, knowing that the answer would be yes. Hercules was a big softy at heart. 

“‘Course I will, Martha,” Hercules shuffled in next to her, easily lifting the small Omega bridal-style. He looked positively tiny against Hercules’ broad chest. 

The Alpha carried him easily, shadowed by Lafayette and Martha. Hercules cringed at leaving Alexander to sleep in jeans, but after the morning’s reaction she figured it would be the best course of action. Martha squeezed the boy’s hand once he was tucked in, and patted the bed for Captain to jump up. 

The Dalmatian happily did so, circling a few times before settling into the crook of Alexander’s bent knees. With a last glance into the bedroom, Martha flipped off the overhead light and closed the door, glad that their new family member would get some sleep at a proper hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the after 1 A.M. posting!
> 
> Come yell at me for torturing poor Alex on [my Tumblr!](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com/)
> 
> • I was watching National Treasure while writing this, so you’re welcome for that.  
> • Martha Washington is a fucking saint in my universe.


	4. New Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is way fucking longer than it was supposed to be already! 
> 
> You get to meet John! So that fun! 
> 
> Enjoy 7.8k of my idiocy!
> 
> Also, I drew shitty blueprints in case anyone wants a visual of the house. Check them out [here.](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com/post/616339201629257728/for-the-people-reading-the-remnants-of-disaster)

**Friday, January 26, 2018**

Alexander woke up screaming, frozen in place, and unable to properly breathe. His room was dark, but the blackness didn’t stop him from seeing images of his past in the open space. Four men flickered in his line of sight, forcing more tormented cries from behind clenched teeth. 

The smell of Alpha was all around him, lavender and leather rubbed off on his clothes. His panicked mind vaguely recognised the scent, but his locked muscles just heightened everything unfamiliar. 

Even with closed eyes, visions of past men in his life danced. He heard a door open, and let loose another scream. 

“Alexander!” It was a woman’s panicked voice, but the large hand that pet his hair wasn’t hers. Their skin smelled of crisp mint and something else that couldn’t be placed. _Lafayette,_ his mind supplied. His muscles unlocked in a split second, Alexander’s entire body jumping up off the bed a few inches due to how hard he’d been fighting. 

The Omega grabbed Lafayette’s wrist, pulled, and forced his nose onto the soft skin. He knew it was a risk to try this, even with Martha standing only a foot away, but as Alexander cried, shaking and sweating, something made him trust. 

**_“Please!”_** Alexander yelled out, clawing at the sensitive skin of his own lower abdomen with his free hand. 

“Shhh,” Alexander knew it was Lafayette speaking, but that didn’t help his dilemma. His adrenaline was already pumping, fight or flight on the verge of kicking in. 

**_“You need to calm down, your voice will not be happy with you if you continue,”_** Lafayette hoped the French would distract Alexander, give him something to focus on that he didn’t know. Break the cycle of panic amplifying itself. 

**_“It’s not safe!”_** The Alpha shoved his surprise aside, taking Alexander’s fluid French in stride.

 ** _“You’re very safe here, Alexander. You are in George and Martha’s house, no one will hurt you,”_** he tried to calm the Omega, swiping at Alexander’s free-flowing tears. 

Instead of responding, Alexander only screamed again, pulling Lafayette’s wrist so hard that the Alpha tipped forward and braced on the bed to keep from falling. 

“Please don’t let them, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, I promise,” he sobbed, looking frantically between Martha and Lafayette, vision blurred by the film of tears in his eyes. 

“You’re good, dear, you’ve been nothing but good here,” Martha shook herself from her reverie, joining her son in leaning on the bed. 

“Please don’t.” Alexander was still crying, but his voice was dying, energy draining away quickly as the adrenaline faded. “Don’t leave me alone with them, ‘ll be good…”

Lafayette let himself relax as the young Omega drifted off as suddenly as he’d awoken, though he wasn’t released. 

“Do you know what he is speaking of?” The Alpha asked his mother, leaning his forehead on the bed to rest. It was 02:29 A.M., sue him for being tired. 

“I think I have an idea,” Martha swiped at her own lingering tears that had been brought on by the stress. “I have to go to your father, he’s a nervous wreck. Told him not to come in here,” she sighed, running a hand down Lafayette’s back before she stood. 

“Should I stay here?” The teen asked, pulling the covers further up onto Alexander’s body. 

“I don’t know,” the woman stared thoughtfully at both the boys, lips pursed. “I think it may help if he wakes up again. But you should put on a shirt. He’s got a past that I have a feeling isn’t pretty.” 

Her son looked down at his state of dress, nodding along with Martha’s suggestion. He followed her out the door, returning a moment later wearing a sweatshirt to go with his sweatpants. 

Climbing into the bed with Alexander, he stayed under the covers but on top of the sheet, giving the Omega another small layer of security. Settling in for the rest of the night, Captain between them, Lafayette hoped Alexander would sleep through till morning.

~

Alexander woke to limbs that felt like hot lead, and moved like tar. He was going in slow motion, the after-effects of an ugly drop. It wasn’t as bad as usual, which confused him— that is until his hand touched another body in the bed. 

At first, Alexander tried to convince himself it was a figment of his imagination. But the slow, steady breathing under his palm was unavoidable. He forced his head to turn, eyes still closed, and didn’t know who he would prefer to see asleep next to him. There weren’t any good options, except maybe Martha. But the heady smell of Alpha was surrounding him. 

It was Lafayette’s scent, muted by the haze that still surrounded his brain. Alexander shifted, twisting his pelvis, frowning when there was no soreness. It made no sense to him. 

He forced his eyes open, traced the soft lines of Lafayette’s sleeping face. The Alpha absolutely dwarfed him, had nine inches on him in height, and— though lean— could crush him. 

Alexander gave his body the few minutes it needed to truly wake up, and then immediately fled from the bed. His heart jumped when something else hit the floor after him, but settled when a happy Dalmatian was at his heels. 

The bathroom door closed far too noisily for Alexander’s taste, and yet there was no movement to be heard in his bedroom. His reflection was a sight to behold, hair an absolute rats nest, clothes rumpled. Clothes… Alexander picked at the denim on his legs with reverence. He never thought someone could be so happy to have slept a full night in jeans.

The Omega did what he could to clean up— combed his fingers through his hair, used a minuscule amount of the toothpaste on his index finger, and washed his face with what soaps had been provided. In Alexander’s opinion he still looked like a disaster. 

Despite those thoughts, he snuck back through the bedroom, into the hallway, and booked it down the stairs. 

Both George and Martha were in the kitchen when he stepped out of the back stairwell, the Alpha happily humming to an obscure tune as he worked around his wife. He hadn’t been spotted yet, and stayed hidden behind the door frame.

“Put that _down!_ ” Martha scolded her husband when he took a piece of bacon off the tray, chasing him out of the kitchen with her spatula. It was interesting that their dynamic was practically upside down. George never snapped, he pulled his weight, kept an even temper. Martha held a job, had a say in the household, and seemed to run her husband while at home. 

“Good morning, Alexander,” George smiled when he saw him tucked away. “How was the rest of your night?”

“The rest?” Alexander asked quietly, his confusion plain as day. 

“After your… you don’t remember waking up?” Martha came up behind her husband, placing her spatula in his hand after she spoke. She shoved him lightly back towards the stove with two fingers on his side, and beckoned the boy closer. 

“You had a nightmare, dear,” she explained, leading him to sit at the breakfast bar. “And if you don’t remember that, I have a feeling you had a big drop right after.” It explained how he’d gone to sleep so quickly: he hadn’t been sleeping. 

“Is that why Lafayette was in my bed?” He really hoped Martha had made that happen, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to trust the other teen with an unlocked door. 

“Yes, sweetheart, that’s why. How are you feeling?”

He took a deep breath and felt the sleepiness in his muscles. “My body’s tired,” he shrugged. He was unfortunately used to the feeling.

“When was the last time you went under?” She took the plate that George offered and slid it in front of Alexander.

“Went halfway when I got here,” Alexander figured she would want the honesty. Plus, he was sure they’d already be calling a caseworker if he had woken everyone up, so what did it matter? “But I don’t know.”

“Have you been down safely, and with someone to bring you back recently?” Martha was trying to keep a level head, but it was concerning that Alexander was so blasé about such a dangerous subject matter.

Alexander stayed quiet, which was answer enough for both George and Martha. 

“Have you been down safely ever?” She tried again, taking a seat next to him at the bar. Again, Alexander gave no answer. He simply looked down at the granite countertop and blushed. 

Martha hummed unhappily, took another plate from George, and pushed the food around on her plate. She couldn’t imagine the stress that Alexander had to be in, weathering the foster care system without a biological outlet. 

“Can I safely assume that you would not be comfortable being put under by Gilbert or myself?” George asked, leaning where he stood to eat so that he could still look at the two of them while they all spoke. 

Alexander’s face went from red to grey faster than should be possible, the blood draining away as he violently shook his head. The boy braced his hands on the counter, ready to shove away at a moment’s notice. 

“Easy,” Martha placed a hand between his shoulder blades, keeping him from pushing back and tipping his chair. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But that means we need other outlets for you.”

His face was still pale, hands white where he gripped the granite. 

“What do you do to relax, son?” George was getting on Alexander’s last nerve with that name. He was still too much of a coward to say anything. 

“Read, write,” he clipped, dipping his head to stare at the floor between his body and the counter. It was a safe answer, considering they wanted him to continue school (he was still in disbelief, the Warren’s had been holding it over his head that he was turning sixteen since the day they’d gotten him).

“Do you have any books?” Martha, he noted, was very good at rolling with whatever he threw at her. He hesitated again. Instinct told him not to reveal where they were, or that he had any at all. After all, Martha still had all of his clothes. But they were giving him every opportunity to open up.

“I have my mom’s old ones,” it was just a whisper, something he hadn’t revealed since his second home. He wanted to trust them so badly. 

“What kind of books?” She was trying to get him to keep sharing, he recognised. He shook his head. Wouldn’t answer that question. 

Most of his mother’s books had to do with Judaism, one was the damn Torah, and Virginia didn’t have a reputation for acceptance. 

“What do you write?” It was George this time, and Alexander thought it was nice that he was trying too. 

“You want honesty?” He hadn’t meant to say it, immediately clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was out there already. 

“We want honesty, you don’t have to tell us anything,” Martha soothed his nerves, rubbing his back in small circles. The young Omega weighed his options; on one hand, they may accept his unorthodox taste. On the other hand, it was a good reason to pop him. 

“Mostly politics. Wrote about the island, but I don’t… do it much anymore.” 

“The island?” Right, they’d given him his file back. Maybe that was part of the reason he was trying to participate. 

“My home. Or, it was,” the food in front of him was getting cold, and Alexander decided that stuffing his face was the perfect excuse to not talk. At that moment, being rude didn’t matter.

“I didn’t know you were interested in politics,” George spoke up again, scooping more bacon onto Alexander’s plate after he finished his in a hurry. “Perhaps one day you can come up to the Hill with me, see where all the arguing happens.” Logically he knew the Alpha was joking, knew that wasn’t the _proper environment for an Omega._

And yet, Alexander still smiled at the thought of Capitol Hill in full swing. 

They left him be for the rest of breakfast, and for the first time in the house Alexander helped clean up. All he did was rinse his empty plate and hand it to Martha, but it felt better than just sitting there watching. Made him feel slightly more useful. 

~ 

Two hours passed after George left for work, and when the grandfather clock in the living room stuck eight o’clock Martha disappeared into the basement for a moment. She came back holding his two outfits, clean, folded, and softer than they’d ever been. 

“Stand up for me,” Martha instructed, setting the clothing on the countertop. She pulled a tailor's tape from the pocket of her apron, showing Alexander what it was before she even approached with it.

“Will you let me touch you to take your measurements? It got forgotten yesterday and you really need some new clothes,” again, Alexander flushed with shame. 

He nodded his consent, and only flinched twice during Martha’s measuring. The woman was typing each set of numbers into her phone, clicking her tongue at some of them. 

“We need to get you to a healthier weight, sweetheart,” she shook her head, backing off once the last measurement had been taken. 

“I’m h-healthy,” a blind man could see he was underweight, but it had been worse before. 

“You would be underweight if you were a Beta, dear. As Omegas we need a little more fluff,” she smiled warmly, and Alexander believed that she really wanted to help him. 

~

Watching Martha wake Lafayette up was an experience. He was hiding in the corner, but it offered a perfect view. At first the woman had gently shook her son’s shoulder, spoken sweetly. Within a minute, she picked up a pillow and smacked him on the head with it. 

Alexander thought it was incredible how much confidence she had with her family. Hell, with everyone he’d seen her interact with. The Omega gasped when she sighed, shook her head, and rolled Lafayette off the bed and onto the floor. 

He was expecting to see rage from the Alpha, to watch someone in this house lose their temper for the first time. Instead, all Lafayette did was groan noisily from the carpet of Alexander’s room and drag himself to his feet. 

“Was that necessary?” His accent was thicker with sleepiness, voice rough. “I do not have schoolwork to do today.”

“And Alexander has been up since five this morning, so I think you can afford to get your butt out of bed and keep him company,” both hands on her hips, Martha tapped a foot on the floor.

“Why am I keeping him company?” Lafayette pulled his ponytail down, hair proofing outwards. 

“I need to go to the store, pick up some things for Alexander,” the young Omega went to protest, but was interrupted by another groan from Lafayette. 

“I can sleep through that,” he sounded like a child, Alexander surprising himself with a giggle at the tone. Martha looked at him with a smile, then went back to her scolding. 

“Go change, your food is downstairs. I will be leaving in a half-hour and expect you to be down there.”

~

Martha was good on her word, leaving in thirty minutes sharp. She promised to be back by one o’clock, which left four and a half hours of alone time with Lafayette.

Alexander was tucked into the same couch he’d claimed the night before, only this time Lafayette had taken up residence directly next to him. A children’s movie was playing, something about mice rescuing a little girl. 

Truly, Alexander was more focused on the Alpha than the screen. 

He flinched when a door from upstairs slammed loud enough to be heard in the basement. After turning to Lafayette, Alexander was left even more nervous; the other teen was grinning like a madman.

“I’ve escaped!” The voice yelled, distant but getting closer. It wasn’t someone he’d heard yet, and his heart rate doubled. 

“That is John,” Lafayette explained, “he’s apparently skipping school, and this is usually the place he comes.”

The theatre room door opened violently, and Alexander was hit with the scent of an excited Omega. Apples and cloves, with something sharp underneath.

“You didn’t tell me he was O,” the newcomer— _John_ — sent Lafayette a betrayed look. John took a short running start, and scared Alexander into the corner of the couch when he launched into Lafayette’s lap. 

The Alpha grabbed at John, keeping him from falling flat on the floor. The Omega went limp, laughing as he flopped around with his friend’s struggling. “I figured you would break in and find out soon enough.”

“I used my key,” John claimed defensively. “I haven’t gone through a window in months.”

“Alexander, let me introduce you to my _lovely_ friend John, who once broke into my bedroom in the middle of the night and poured a bucket of ice water on me, and is now banned from going through windows.” Lafayette acknowledged Alexander again, letting go of John. He barked a laugh as the Omega fell to the floor with a thump. 

“Why’d you do that?” Alexander was practically whispering, scooching further into the couch when John crawled back up onto the cushions.

“‘Cause this big lug threw me into a river while we were camping,” John shoved the Alpha with his socked foot. 

“You wouldn’t wake up!” Lafayette threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

John elbowed Alexander jokingly in the ribs. “You let me know if this buffoon ever bothers you.”

“Buffoon,” the Alpha grumbled, dragging John back by his ankle, trapping him on his lap. “Martha has broken you down. What happened to me being a twatwaffle?”

John groaned exaggeratedly, startling Alexander by grabbing his thigh to drag away from Lafayette. “Eighth grade and he still won’t let that shitty name go, can you believe this fucker?” Alexander didn’t know what to do with the lap full of Omega he suddenly found himself with.

Alexander was shocked by how exuberant John seemed to be. He’d assumed by that time that the household was more relaxed about gender roles, but this was a whole new level of energy.

“These my clothes?” John pinched at the material of Alexander’s sweater, who flushed. It dawned on him that he'd never changed back into his own clothes— Lafayette had stolen him away too quickly. 

“Among the many that you’ve managed to leave here,” the Alpha shrugged, hitting pause on the movie since it was clear that no one was focused on it. 

“They look nice on you,” Alexander’s blush darkened from the attention. 

Lafayette laughed again, shoving John further away playfully. “Can’t be in a room with a pretty boy for more than a minute and not flirt, can you?”

“What can I say, it’s my charm, Laf,” John shrugged. Alexander was frozen in place. He didn’t know how to react to the situation. Another Omega had never flirted with him, and for some reason his hormones liked the attention. His muscles softened, relaxing around his lap full of John. 

“Go get us food, I have to get my grilling in,” Lafayette made a show of it, but did as he was told. He left the door open and gave John an _I’m watching you_ gesture. 

“So,” Alexander was relieved when John sat up. Still too close, but they weren’t touching. “How’s your time with the Washingtons been?”

Alexander considered. “They’ve been nice,” he shrugged. He wasn’t willing to give up much information to a relative stranger. 

“Got it, gonna keep quiet. That's okay, I can be patient.”

In another bold move, Alexander cleared his throat weakly, still debating speaking. “Are you and Lafayette…?” 

John immediately burst out laughing, doubled over after a moment, trying to catch his breath. “No, no,” he wheezed out, “Herc and him are way too into each other for anyone else.” John was wiping tears away by that point. “Besides, not what I’m looking for.”

The look John gave him was obvious, a sweep from top to bottom. Alexander bit his lip and averted his eyes. He was ashamed at how much he wanted to return the affections.

Lafayette came back in time to see Alexander looking more than uncomfortable, frown immediately taking over his face.

“Does Hercules know that you skipped?” He tried to direct John's attention away from his foster brother, placing a bowl of fruit in between the Omegas. 

“Shit, no!” John scrambled for his phone, thumbs flying as he typed. 

“I thought you said you weren’t… weren't…” He didn’t finish the thought, and figured John would understand. 

“Nah, nothing like that, man. Herc just makes sure no one does anything stupid while we’re on campus. Keeps me from getting into fights.”

“You give him more credit than he needs,” Lafayette scoffed, “it inflates his ego beyond belief. That he gets to be the big bad Alpha sometimes.” Alexander still couldn’t believe how soft-spoken Hercules was. Though, that wasn’t to say he couldn’t be crass.

“Yeah, yeah, he just keeps me from breaking my knuckles on Lee’s face. Again.” John grinned.

“Hush up, we must finish the movie. There is a long list that Alexander has not seen for us to get through.”

~

Alexander watched John and Lafayette more than the movies on screen. Like everyone in his new life, they seemed to have an odd dynamic. With a new movie on screen, John got tired quickly, relaxing into his friend. 

He eventually ended up straddling the Alpha, yet Alexander could see that the touches were platonic. As John plastered himself to Laf’s front, the latter’s hands never strayed away from hips, shoulders, or the Omega’s back. When soft snores reached his ears, Alexander felt himself tense up again. 

He was beginning to trust Lafayette, but sleep was a vulnerability that he doubted he would ever enjoy sharing. Still, though, Laf simply laid John down on the leather sofa, as delicately as if he was handling a baby. 

“He does not sleep well at home,” Lafayette explained, pulling his sweatshirt over his head to lay on his sleeping friend, a pseudo blanket of sorts. 

“So he sleeps here?” Alexander understood sleeping issues probably better than anyone. 

“It is why so many of his clothes are here. He steals mine, steals Herc’s when he is here. I am glad you’re roughly the same size.” 

Alexander understood that. If they were as comfortable as it seemed, the Alpha couple would be seen as safe, as something John could trust. He settled in more comfortably, sneakily touched his fingertips to Johns splayed out hair, and truly focused in on the movies Lafayette was showing him. 

~

Martha arrived back at the house at a quarter after one, carefully balancing more bags than Alexander was comfortable with. The three teens had migrated upstairs by that point, Lafayette stuffing his face with food.

“Why is John’s car in the driveway?” She asked dryly. Laf cringed at his mother.

“Would you believe that he got suspended again?”

The woman put her hands on her hips after dropping her bags to the floor. “Hercules would be as well. Why did you skip, John? ‘Because you wanted to’ is not a viable option.”

John cringed, pressed himself into the armrest of the couch. 

“I wanted to come see who Laf had been talking about?” He phrased it more as a question than an answer. 

“And you couldn’t come after school, could you?” Instead of the anger Alexander was expecting, Martha’s tone was pitying. 

“No,” it was the first time he’d seen John look anything but happy. “Have to be home by 3:30, too, so that it looks like I wasn’t over here.”

“Your school doesn’t call?” Alexander cut in before Martha could get another word out. John’s smile returned full force, he glanced over at Martha like there was an inside joke. 

“At the beginning of every school year John puts our number down. It keeps the peace,” she explained— it just left Alexander more confused. “Now, since you’re here, come help carry these bags upstairs.”

All three stood and took a few in hand, following Martha along as she led them up the steps. 

“I’ll get your clothes clean and you can take them back, John dear,” she chatted happily, pushing Alexander’s door open with her hip. When he got inside, the boy realised how ungrateful his behaviour must look. They’d been nothing but kind and accommodating, and here his bed was unmade, both stacks of clothing sitting haphazardly on the dresser. 

“I don’t know, Martha, think he looks better in ‘em,” the woman rolled her eyes, muttered something under her breath with a smile, and placed her bags on his bed. 

“Shoo, shoo,” Martha chased John and Lafayette out the door after they’d handed their haul over, “go get into trouble elsewhere. Alexander has clothes to try on.”

After the two had left, she pulled the first article of clothing out of a shopping bag. 

“I know it seems like a lot of clothes,” she handed the fleece sweater over, letting Alexander feel how fluffy the material was. “But these are normal things you’d find in a wardrobe. I bought mostly winter clothes, but hopefully you’ll be ready to come with me to get summer stuff.” His face felt hot at his cowardice.

“All of these are clothes?” There were probably fifteen or twenty bags on his bed and floor. 

“No, not all,” Martha began rustling through the plastic. “I got you hygiene products of your own. Everything I could think of, even if you might have already had it.”

Alexander found it interesting how Martha could just talk without fear of reprimand or embarrassment. 

The boy hugged the sweater to his chest, rubbing it against his cheek. “Why are you doing all this?” 

“Doing what, dear?” She asked, still searching. So far she’d pulled out all sorts of products. He licked his teeth behind closed lips, disgusted with himself at how they felt fuzzy. 

“Being so nice,” he shrugged. “Buying things.”

Martha hesitated, took a couple of steps towards Alexander, and grasped one of his hands. “Sweetheart, this is how families are supposed to work. You take care of each other. And you need more than the bare minimum to really live.”

“But this stuff is expensive,” she looked to where he was pointing; the Omega labeled bath products.

Martha laughed quietly. “We already buy those for Gilbert, dear. That’s where what you have now came from. And your skin needs taken care of with the gentler products.”

“I… I have a rash from regular soap,” Alexander admitted, giving a wince when Martha tutted her tongue.

“How long has it been there?” The boy shrugged, kicking the carpet with his socked feet. 

“A couple of weeks? I can handle it, it’s just a rash,” Martha sighed, upset that Alexander wasn’t getting her point. Upset at the people who had given him that mindset, definitely not the boy himself. 

“There’s a hypoallergenic body lotion in here somewhere. Putting it on twice a day should get rid of it, but I need you to let me know if it spreads.”

“Yes ma’am,” his fingers itched with the urge to claw at bare skin, but he knew Martha wouldn’t approve of that tactic. 

~

It was quite the process, but within a half-hour Alexander had tried on everything Martha had bought. Most things fit perfectly, and there were a few sweaters that she’d purposefully gotten a size too large. He settled on a pair of stretchy jeans similar to John’s cast-offs, a fleece sweater too large on him, and fluffy socks. The outfit screamed _comfy_ , but Martha didn’t say anything in the negative. 

“Gilbert will be leaving soon, dear,” she informed him before they even left his room. “John may stick around a bit longer, but if you’re uncomfortable he doesn’t have to.”

“Is John as nice as- as nice as he seems?” Alexander was furious with himself over how much he’d been fumbling his words lately. 

Martha gave his shoulder a squeeze. “The kindest boy you’ll find around. Just a little bit, let’s go with guarded, at first. Got a lot of walls, that one. But he likes you, I can see it in his eyes.”

Alexander blushed beet red for reasons unbeknownst to him, entire body warmed for a moment. 

“Martha how come you don’t… aren’t you, um, you and George seem-” he cut himself off abruptly, picking at the skin on his palms, the burning pain grounding. 

“Go on, sweetheart, take your time,” she took both of his hands, separating them so that he couldn’t claw himself. 

“You’ve been so nice,” Alexander whispered, “I don’t need all this, I really don’t.”

“We want you to be comfortable and happy, Alexander. The money isn’t an issue, if that’s what you’re worried about.” She cooed when Alexander teared up, followed as he sat down hard on the bed.

“I just don’t understand!” He was embarrassed by how many tears he’d shed in the last couple of days. “You’re so- you’re so nice!” He sobbed, wiping spilled tears with his sleeve. “You and Geo-” hiccup, “George are so nice to me, and I don’t need all the food, and I like it here so much already, _please don’t make me leave!_ ” Alexander was babbling, but Martha just shushed him soothingly, drawing the boy to her chest. 

“You don’t have to leave,” Martha held him steady, “we love having you here, dear. You’re already fitting in so nicely.”

“I a- I am?” 

“George and I think you make a wonderful addition,” she confirmed. “I think we should have a little chat.”

“What about?” Alexander sniffled, tears still flowing but cries tapering off. 

“Why we think you’re a good match,” she pulled Alexander closer, until he was practically in her lap, and used the contact to rock them both back and forth. 

Alexander stayed silent, figured it would be too forward to scent her, but he still got as close as possible without touching his nose to her neck. 

“We had three other kids in here before you, Alexander. None of them worked out, they just weren’t the right fit for our family.”

“Why weren’t they right?” He asked glumly, wanting to know so he could avoid the same mistakes.

“Well,” she readjusted their position, “the first child who came was seventeen, a Beta. Her name was Arabella, and she was a nice girl at first. But she was less than… supportive of Hercules and Gilbert’s relationship. 

“She taunted him relentlessly, and after a while, it just became too much.” He didn’t have to worry about that, their relationship was just fine with him. 

“Next there was an Alpha boy your age, Lincoln. There was a similar issue there, but this boy got physical. And Gilbert is too much of a gentleman to fight back.” The boy couldn’t fathom raising a hand to anyone as seemingly peaceful.

“Last, just a couple of weeks before you came here, there was another Alpha boy. Cody. He was very traditional, which is fine as long as it’s kept respectful. But Cody thought he was superior to me, thought he could order me around, and that George would back him up. 

“He also believed he was above Gilbert, that his more effeminate nature made him lesser. He thought that Hercules would support him.”

“How do you and George… how do you work?” Alexander saw his opportunity, took the chance to ask what had been bugging him since he’d seen them interact. 

He felt Martha’s laugh more than heard it. “George and I work as equals, dear. We always have. It’s what attracted me to him in the first place. Truth be told, until I met him I wasn’t sure I would ever mate again.”

“Again?” Alexander’s head snapped up off her shoulder. Second bonds were frowned upon, he never would have thought that someone of their status— _a United States Senator, for god’s sake!_ — would be on number two.

A long sigh came from the woman, who’s fingers snagged in the young Omegas hair when she tried to brush them through. 

“Sit up straight, dear, let me brush your hair out. It’s not a wonderful story, but I suppose you need to know.” Alexander obliged, knew his hair was less than manageable at the moment. Martha grabbed the new tangle-free brush she’d bought for him and began to work in small, careful sections. 

“When I was eighteen my father decided it was time to find me a husband,” she began. “His name was Daniel, and he was twenty years my senior. But I was young, and raised to listen to my father blindly. It started off alright. He spent a lot of time out, but I got bored around the house.

“I had been taught to read and write as a child, which was still taboo in my family. I was the only Omega who was afforded that privilege from a young age, for some reason. And I was found in his library one day.” Alexander stiffened. He wasn’t sure if it was an elaborate plot to get in his mind. Stranger things had happened.

“Let’s just say things went downhill from there. I was in that marriage for eight years, trapped in a very traditional bond.” 

“What happened when it went bad?” Alexander asked, wondering how much Martha was willing to reveal. 

“Daniel would beat me, mostly when he was drunk.” She said it so nonchalantly, though he supposed Martha had more time to cope.

“We kept up appearances, but behind closed doors life was ugly. I had four children,” Alexander whipped around to look at her eyes wide. She winced for him as the brush tore through knots with the movement. 

“You had kids before? Where are they?” Martha’s expression turned sad, and Alexander’s stomach was stone. 

“Gone. Long gone,” she went back to his hair. “Bad luck came with my first, Jr.; he died of SIDS, just a couple of days old. The twins were next, Frances and Jacky— mind you I wasn’t allowed to go to the hospital to give birth, or even have checkups— they were stillborn. And my last was Martha,” the woman paused, sniffled, and cleared her throat.

“Little Martha was crying, and Daniel shook her. She was gone in just a few seconds.” Alexander turned around again, slower this time. 

“Did you leave him?” He asked, voice thick with tears.

“No,” Martha produced a tissue from her pants pocket and dabbed at her eyes. “I had no choice but to stay— you know those pesky laws. He got sick when I was twenty-six, heart finally gave out after a couple of months. I was a free woman for the first time in my life.”

“But you still found another mate?” He didn’t understand how she could trust someone again after that amount of trauma. Just hearing the story had him shaky. 

“I met George at a stiff, formal party. He was the only Alpha I’d spoken to in quite a while who treated me like just another human being. We left the party, had a bit of a night on the town. 

“I almost didn’t let myself fall into that relationship, but it just seemed perfect. By the time I was twenty-seven we were married,” Martha got her usual gleam back talking about George. It made Alexander warm inside.

“And then you had Lafayette?” 

“Alexander,” Martha was laughing, and his face flushed with shame. He didn’t know what was funny, but it was obviously directed his way. The woman sobered the second she saw his face. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I just assumed you’d figured it all out by now.”

“Figured it out?” He was more confused than ever.

“Dear, Gilbert is adopted. Neither George nor I are French.” Alexander took a second to process the information, let his jaw drop, then hid his face behind both hands.

“You must think I’m stupid,” a palm came to rest on his back, pressing lightly along his spine. 

“No,” Martha disagreed, “you’ve been under a lot of stress since getting here. And between the two of us, Gilbert wouldn’t have noticed either, if your roles were reversed. Very smart, that one, but a bit oblivious at times.” Alexander gave a giggle, and Martha cupped his cheeks. 

“You really want me?” Even after Martha unloaded her story Alexander needed to hear the words. 

“So long as you are nice to Gilbert, and stay respectful of George and me, we want you with us for the rest of your life.” The words practically made him vibrate. 

“Um,” a thought crossed his mind, “is there a reason you and George didn’t have kids? I mean, like, biological.” Alexander hated that he couldn’t let himself just have a nice moment.

Martha didn’t get upset, though. He wondered if she was capable of it. “Having little Martha, it messed with my body. I wasn’t allowed to visit an obstetrician postpartum, and Daniel didn’t like to be told no. Between the two, I couldn't carry another child.

“Even if I could,” she continued, “George had chickenpox as an adult, and it left him sterile. But Gilbert fell into our laps, his parents passed, and we were eventually granted custody.”

“Were you, uhm, did you ever-” the young Omega wouldn’t let himself finish, figured it would be crossing a line. 

“Go on, it’s okay. You can ask me anything.” _Bet I could find something you wouldn’t answer_ , he sneered internally. 

Alexander took a deep breath, steadied himself. “Did he ever… f-force you?” His vocal cords seized on him, making the sentence more of a few choked words. 

“Would this happen to do with your past sexual experiences?” Alexander didn’t understand how Martha was so intuitive. He’d answered one question halfway at the doctor’s office and she figured him out.

The boy gave a nod, tears returning at the admission, dripping down his cheeks unimpeded. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything more, dear. Have you ever gone to see a gynaecologist?” The idea filled him with embarrassment, yet he still gave a shake of his head in the negative. 

“I’ll make you an appointment in the morning, we’ll get you checked out and tested.” She set aside the hairbrush, satisfied with his tangle-free hair. 

“It doesn’t disgust you?” It sure as hell disgusted Alexander, and it was his own past. 

Martha pulled her fellow Omega close, squeezed him tight. “You are a beautiful, young, vibrant Omega. Whatever happened, it is _your_ body, and you can do with it as you please.” 

It broke the dam again, he hoped for the last time that day, as sobs shook his frame. The boy clung to Martha like a lifeline, took the plunge, and pressed his nose into her neck. She smelled of the rosewater he’d come to think of as safe in their time together, heightened by his unraveled emotions.

“Just relax, Alexander, it’s alright,” she let him freely scent, his tears soaking her blouse quickly. 

“Alex,” the boy choked out between his cries, holding her tighter.

“What, dear?” Martha had heard, but wanted to be sure.

“Call me Alex, please.”

~

That had indeed been his last full meltdown of the day. He and Martha had gone downstairs after, Alex feeling lighter on his feet just from their conversation. Lafayette left at two-thirty, dressed in riding clothes and with parting words that he would not be back for dinner.

Martha gave John and Alex their privacy, made herself scarce in George’s office, and the younger Omega was nervous to be left alone with someone who was practically a stranger. 

“You smell like tears,” John remarked casually, shifted closer to his companion on the couch. 

Alex blushed at the ground. “Martha and I had a conversation,” was all he offered, letting John get nearer to him without moving over himself. 

“She’s good at those,” he hummed, reaching across the distance between them to pet Alex’s fleece sweater. “Martha get you stuff to nest yet?” Alex shook his head, looked away.

“I don’t need it yet,” the younger whispered, sinking into the couch to escape John’s touch. 

“Nonsense!” John exclaimed, standing suddenly. “You’re in a new place, need something comforting. I can help if you want.”

Alex stayed in his seat, flinched harshly when footsteps rang out behind him. 

“It’s nearly three, John,” she explained her presence with the statement. “Would you like some food before you have to go?”

“No thanks, Martha,” John took Alex’s hand, pulling his fellow Omega to his feet. “Dad’s having some guests over tonight, so he’ll have to give me something. ‘Sides, he can’t know I was here.”

“I’ll give you some nonperishables,” Martha wasn’t leaving him a choice, “you can keep them in your car.”

John shrugged, and Alex had a feeling this was a frequent conversation. “You have enough spare stuff for Alexander to make a nest?” Martha didn’t look shaken by the question. Alex wondered if John had made a nest there before.

“Yes, of course. They’re your blankets though, John. Is that alright?” Alex considered how close he was to this family. They just seemed so comfortable with one another. At John’s nod, Martha turned on her heel and headed upstairs.

~

Alex had never made a true, sturdy nest before. Even with his mother there hadn’t been enough resources to use more than a couple of blankets and his one pillow. Martha had piled so much bedding in his room he was sure it could’ve filled his mother’s whole house. 

Luckily for him, John took point in the building, letting instinct guide him in his construction. The covers on his bed were quickly pulled back, extra pillows stacked around the edge. Spare blankets got tossed into the centre of the pillow ring, and another heavy one was laid on top of the down comforter to increase the weight of it. 

“Whose scents do you want in it?” John asked when he’d finished arranging blankets, taking the last one that Alex had been holding to lay across the pillows at the top of the bed, covering the silk in fleece.

Alex thought hard about that question. Even in the short time he’d known everyone, they were beginning to smell like pack— like home. And putting scents in a nest he would sleep in could help him become more relaxed around them all. 

“Everyone?” He answered weakly, bunching his sweater in hand to pull it tighter to his body. 

“Like, George, Martha, and Laf?”

Alex blushed hard, eyes glued to the floor. “Does Hercules have clothes here?” He paused. “And… and you?”

John looked like he’d seen the sun for the first time in years when Alex said that, smile blinding. 

“Herc’s got clothes here for sure. Laf always keeps some around. I’ll ask Martha for something of her and George’s, yeah?” He offered. Alex nodded. 

~

As it turned out, Martha was more than happy to provide the blanket that sat at the end of her and George’s bed. John gathered a hoodie Hercules had left in Lafayette’s room, as well as one of Laf’s extra pillows. For his own clothing, John stripped off his outer sweater and laid it next to Hercules’.

The nest was completed a few minutes later, John standing back to admire his work with Alex. 

“Thank you,” Alex whispered, hand hovering over John’s side before he leaned in for a soft hug. 

“Yeah, ‘course. I’ve got to get going, though. See you soon, yeah?”

Alex surprised himself with a genuine smile.

~

“So, Alexander,” George, Martha, and Alex were sitting around the dining room table eating dinner when George made an attempt at conversation. “Martha tells me you speak French?” 

“How do you…?” Alex didn’t finish the question, but he didn’t have to for Martha to understand.

“When you were dropping last night, Gilbert spoke to you in French, trying to break the fog. And you spoke French right back to him.”

“Oh,” Alex pushed a mushroom around on his plate. All of the meals they’d fed him were delicious, but his body wasn’t used to the amount of proper food. It made him feel ill after just a few bites.

“When did you learn French?” George asked, sipping water after he finished his plate. Alex noted that he hadn’t seen a single drop of alcohol in the house so far. 

“We used it on the island,” Alex hunched in on himself, left hand clawing at his own thighs. “I speak all kinds of things.”

“Like what, dear?” Martha pressed, taking more food for herself. _No restrictions on food for her._

A pause. “French, Spanish, little Latin… and some Hebrew.” He finally gave up on the pretense of eating, set his fork down on the plate.

“Hebrew?” The Alpha looked shocked, and Alex shrunk further down, trying to look smaller. 

“Alex, dear,” Martha leaned across the table to put her hand over his. “Are you Jewish?”

“Am I allowed to be?” It was already too late, so Alex figured the sass wouldn’t matter. 

“Oh, of course!” Martha was on her feet, around the table, and kneeling by his chair. She could see the panic coming from a mile away. 

“Why would you not be allowed to be Jewish, Alexander?” George asked, not moving in case it made things worse. 

Alex didn’t answer, just leaned into Martha and breathed in deeply. He was shaking, but Martha had intersected before any tears had been able to fall. She was getting good at spotting his tells. 

Martha held him close. “You can be whatever you like, Alex. We don’t know much about Judaism, but we’d love to learn if you’ll teach us.”

“I don’t… my mama was Jewish,” he cleared his throat, “so I guess I kinda am, but I haven’t ever really, you know, practiced it.” Martha hummed at the statement, pulled back to look Alex in the eye. 

“Don’t you worry, dear. We’re pretty relaxed around here.”

He helped them clear the dishes after their conversation, quiet but more relaxed than he’d been around George since arriving. 

“I'll be around the house tomorrow, Alexander. I was hoping we could go over some paperwork together.” Just like that, there went the relaxation in his body. A stiff nod.

“May I go to bed?” He asked, already inching toward the back stairwell. 

“You don’t have to ask us that, sweetheart,” Martha smiled at him. “Would you like Captain to sleep in your room again?” Alex thought for a second, then gave a small smile. 

“I’ll go get the dogs, then,” George cut in, backing out of the situation with more tact than Alex had given him credit for. 

~

Forty-five minutes later Alex was curled up in his nest, freshly showered and in his own pyjamas. Captain was curled at his feet, and— nose tucked into John’s sweater— he slipped into a truly restful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed!
> 
> Come yell at me on [my Tumblr!](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com/)
> 
> • Alexander Hamilton historically spoke French fluently, could speak Danish and knew Hebrew.  
> • Martha Washington (the real one!) learned to read and write, which was uncommon among women in the early 1700’s.  
> • Martha Washington was in a seemingly happy marriage from the age of 18-26, where she had 4 kids with him. Daniel Parke Custis Jr., born Nov. 15, 1751, likely died of malaria in 1754. Frances Parke Custis, born in April of 1753, died in 1757. John “Jacky” Parke Custis, born 1754, died Nov. 5, 1781 of violent illness. Martha Parke Custis, born in 1756, had seizures throughout life and died of one on June 19, 1773. ([More info on Martha’s first marriage and kids.](https://www.mountvernon.org/george-washington/martha-washington/marthas-first-marriage-children/))  
> • George and Martha first met while George was still serving in the military. Martha’s home in New Kent County was close to Williamsburg, the location of the Virginia House of Burgesses. On a trip to the Virginia legislative body, Washington took a detour in order to meet Martha.  
> • George actually contracted Smallpox in November of 1751 at age 19, and was likely sterile as he never had children with the obviously non-sterile Martha.


	5. Advancement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Comments and kudos are always appreciated. 
> 
> I’m not sure how I feel about this chapter. But it needed to happen. 
> 
> For my non-equestrians out there, I’m sorry, I’m absolutely projecting onto the story, and luckily most of the founding mothers and fathers were avid equestrians. 
> 
> More shitty blueprints! Link is in the end note.
> 
> 7k of shit.

**Saturday, January 27, 2018**

Alex was sitting in George’s office, stiff as a board. The door was wide open, and they were separated by the Alpha’s wide, mahogany desk, but that did nothing to ease the boy’s nerves. It felt too formal, like he’d been called to the principal's office. But he had to live with this disciplinarian.

Their morning had gone well, Lafayette had showed up groggy and sated, Hercules at his heels. Alex had been a bit surprised when George and Martha had continued on, which told him that the teen stayed over often. 

By eleven, though, when George had asked to speak with Alex in his office, the calm façade had melted away. Martha’s parrot was flying rampant, the dogs had spotted a fox outside and gone wild over it, and Hercules and Lafayette had delved into a wrestling match over the television remote.

The quiet of the office was somehow much worse than said chaos. 

“So, Alexander, I just wanted to discuss a few things with you,” George opened a drawer, pulled some papers and a pen out. 

“Have I done something wrong?” 

“No, no,” the Alpha pushed a stapled packet towards him. “This is your official Transfer of Alphas. The state faxed it over yesterday morning.”

“You’re not going to sign it, are you?” Alex asked glumly. 

George scoffed. “My wife would have my head if I didn’t. She’s already signed her part, but I’m sure you know that’s not the signature that counts in the government’s eye.”

A nod. “Tells you some stuff, though. Can’t make you want me.”

“I only read the first page,” George pointed with his pen to the printed words. “That’s the only legalese, everything else is a brief recap of your time with every other Alpha the state has a record of. I was _advised_ by my wife not to read it.” 

He emphasised the word like it would harm him if he didn’t. Alex was honoured Martha wanted to protect his privacy, and was still waiting for him to decide. 

“You want me to do what?” There was always something.

The Alpha dropped his pen in front of the boy. “I want you to sign your acknowledgment of my status as your legal Alpha. And for you to know that this is not meant to trap you.”

“It’s meant to do what?” Alex snapped, scribbling his sloppy signature on the bottom of the first page. It was just a pretty design, the paper could be filed without his consent. “Protect me, even when I’m an adult? Because my hormones make me incapable of making rational decisions?”

George didn’t make a sound, merely leaned back in his swivel chair to wait out Alex’s burst of anger. 

“Can’t do anything without your written permission. Won't be able to make a significant withdrawal from the bank; travel; file for a job. God, will I be allowed to go to school? What happens when you get sick of me, then the state’ll just give me to whoever will _donate_ the most.” Alex was huffing, face red, and muscles taut. 

“I understand where your concern is coming from, Alexander, but I’d like to reaffirm that this is not that kind of household. I have no authoritative role over Martha, and besides that of a parent, I won’t over you.” Alex scoffed.

“Yeah? And how’s your treatment of me going to differ from how you treat Lafayette? Your precious _Alpha son_. Your heir.” Alex didn’t know why he was goading the Alpha. Perhaps he was looking to see what his anger would look like. 

“You will be treated the same, though it’ll probably take time for you to believe that.” George pulled the papers towards himself again, signed and dated the bottom, and placed the packet to the side. 

“Yeah? And an Alpha? Bet you’ll want me off your hands as soon as I’m old enough to legally mate.”

“If that’s what you want,” the Alpha twisted his wedding band absently. “You’ll be under no pressure to find a mate. And when you do, should you wish it, I will sign custody over. But until you ask me to do that, you needn’t worry.”

“Gonna keep me under lock and key, Senator? Can’t have an Omega run rampant, that’d ruin your reputation,” Alex was snarling faintly, a cheap imitation of a real growl. 

George cracked a smile. “I already have one Omega who does as she pleases, what’s another? I see no reason you shouldn’t live your life.”

 _“Live my life,”_ Alex scoffed, crossed his arms, and turned to the side so that he didn’t have to look at the Alpha. 

When they’d walked into the room the boy had had his head down. Now, as he waited for reprimand, Alex was able to look around. The built-in shelves were lined with books, mostly in impeccable condition. There were pictures of the Washington family, and more who he assumed were extended family. The homey sense made the boy feel even more out of place. 

“I’m sorry you’ve been led to believe you wouldn’t be able to live a fulfilling life,” George spoke up, shifted in his chair enough that Alex turned back to face him again.

“What am I supposed to do, huh?” _You’re asking for it, don’t be surprised when you get popped,_ Alex whispered internally. 

“Go to college, if you please. Find a mate, or don’t. Travel, maybe, or whatever else you’d like to do,” the Alpha spoke so easily. 

“And you’ll just _let me,_ ” Alex was still fuming, yet he couldn’t tell why. He assumed this was the explosion from containing so much anger for days on end. 

George shrugged. “I’ll sign whatever you need to live your life. And, should you find a mate, I’d like to make sure only that they’ll treat you right. It’s your life, I’ve lived mine already.”

Alex’s chest heaved, and emotions that had been hyping him up crashed quickly. The silence stretched on, George letting his charge take what time he needed. 

“I’m sorry,” the Omega said eventually, fiddled with the sleeves of his sweater. 

“Nothing to apologise for, Alexander. You’ve been stressed, I understand.”

Alex took a shuddering breath. “Why do you treat Martha and me so… normal?”

George frowned. “I treat her as an equal, Alexander. What do you mean?” The Alpha was leaning on the desk at that point, moving to get slightly closer to Alex. 

“You, like- you don’t get mad. You let her talk however she wants. And you h-help around the house.” As quickly as his confidence had come, it was gone again. The spacious room was suddenly too open, walls swirling in his vision. Alex dropped his head, counted his breathing silently. 

_In one, two, three… out one, two, three, in one, two-_

“Martha made me this way, Alexander,” George cut Alex’s train of thought off. “I used to be more of what I assume you’re expecting.” 

“How?” Alex was quiet in asking. That confession hadn’t helped his nerves.

The Alpha directed Alex’s attention to a picture on the wall with one finger. It was a military photo, framed and tucked onto a shelf. 

“I was in the army when the two of us met. I kept up the strict military regiment, and the bigoted opinions that can come with it,” he explained. “But Martha, she opened up and gave me perspective.

“I realised very quickly that if I wanted to hold on to her I had to change my outlook on gender roles. It went faster than expected.”

“So just like that, because you found a likely mate, you changed? That doesn’t sound very possible,” Alex scoffed. 

George offered a smile. “It wasn’t easy to do, by any means. I didn’t want to fake anything, so I had to commit. When we got married, Martha’s first request was to go back to school.

“I signed off on it, and that helped clear our dynamic up quite a bit. Martha finished her bachelor’s degree in three years, which didn’t leave much time to fill traditional roles.”

“She went through medical school then?” Alex asked shyly.

“She did. Four years of traditional medical school, and then three years to complete her residency. Four years ago she was pulled into a private practice, which helps with a more flexible and predictable schedule.”

Alex digested the given information silently. The story made sense, an Alpha would have to pull their weight in that situation. He glanced at George’s military photo.

“You were a Major?” He tried to hide his impressed tone. 

George smiled tightly. “I was, yes. Impressive that you can identify ranks so quickly.” Alex shrugged, didn’t offer an explanation. 

“Have you thought more about where you would like to go to school?” The elder asked, changing the subject when he recognised a dead end. “She told me you were going to think over your options.”

The Omega was shocked at George’s interest. “I don't know,” a shrug. 

“I don’t want to rush you, but you’ll need to make a decision soon,” George smiled weakly. “We can’t have you out of school for too long, or the state has grounds to take you from us.”

“Even after you’ve signed on as my legal Alpha?” Alex’s voice had a panicked edge to it that he didn’t want there.

“Unfortunately, yes. Unless we legally adopted you, me being your legal Alpha means nothing in terms of permanent custody.”

Another long stretch of silence followed. “May I go, sir?” Alex asked tensely, finished with the conversation. He had a feeling that if it continued he would end up in tears again. The Washington household was just beginning to feel slightly safe, he didn’t want to imagine that rug being pulled out from under him.

“Oh, of course,” George nodded, gestured to the open door. “I’ll be in here for a while if you need anything.”

Alex simply stood, turned, and fled the room. George’s office was an intimidating place to be, in spite of its homey atmosphere. 

Back in the living room, he discovered that Lafayette and Hercules had stacked a precarious pile of board games on the coffee table, and were both scowling at the instructions of one.

“Ah, Alexander, we need a third participant,” Laf’s head snapped up when he heard Alex’s light footsteps. “Have you ever played Munchkin?”

“No,” Alex joined the Alphas on the floor, sitting on the opposite side of the coffee table from the two. 

“You wanna join us then, Alex?” Hercules asked, elbowing Laf gently in the side. The burly Alpha slid the rules across the table, ignoring the Omega’s stunned look at the nickname. 

He knew, logically, that he’d told Martha to call him Alex instead of Alexander. But for Hercules to do it, to him at least, it meant the Alpha wanted him around slightly more than originally anticipated. He felt flustered at the thought of making a friend that wasn’t out of sheer obligation, and refused to let his mind wonder if this was still just friendly behaviour. 

Maybe he was overthinking it…

“Sure,” Alex agreed, going for nonchalant to keep his host family in the dark about his internal ramblings. 

~

They played the game for well over an hour, Alex slowly letting himself relax on his place on the floor. 

“I win,” the Omega hesitantly slid his character marker onto the tenth place on the game board. 

“Beginner's luck,” Lafayette scoffed, quickly stuffing his own marker back into the box. “I’ll get you next time.”

Hercules nudged Lafayette with his shoulder, helping him clean the cards up. “Don’t mind him,” he addressed Alex, “he’s a sore loser when it comes to stuff like this.”

“It was fun,” Alex smiled, jumping despite himself when he saw George walk out of the hallway that led to his office. 

“Alexander, have you been outside since arriving here?” George asked, handing a short stack of papers over to Martha with a kiss to her temple. “There’s plenty to do if you want to get out.”

Alex shook his head but held the Alpha’s gaze. “Not unless you count walking to the car,” he shrugged it off, went back to handing his playing cards to Hercules.

Lafayette’s eyes went wide, and he practically leapt to his feet. “Get up, get up!” The teenager took a quick step towards Alex, but backtracked when he saw the wince it caused. Instead of going for Alex, he drug Hercules to his feet. Alex wondered idly if Lafayette could lift his boyfriend.

“Where are we going?” Alex asked as he stood, hands pressed to his hips to deal with his mounting anxiety. 

“Outside!” Laf explained patiently, waiting for Alex and Hercules to catch up as he speed-walked away. 

“Sorry ‘bout the energy,” Hercules shrugged, “I can calm him down if you don’t want to go out.”

It was a nice offer, but Alex was curious about what was so special. “I’ll go,” he shot the offer down carefully. 

Lafayette was a whirlwind, the energy that he’d had when Alex first arrived returning full force. He was shoved into his new winter coat and boots, wrapped in a scarf that smelled strongly of said Alpha, and made to wait as his companions dressed in their own winter garb. 

“How much land do you have?” Alex asked Martha when she came over, toting a basket of hand warmers to dole out. 

“Just over four hundred acres,” she stuffed hand warmers into a set of gloves before handing them to Alex. The young Omega’s eyes widened.

 _“Really?_ ” He’d never been in a property with that much space to run. 

“Oh, yes. We bought the house for its seclusion and land, mostly.”

Alex stayed quiet, flashed a small smile in silent thanks for the gloves, and followed Lafayette and Hercules out the back door that was tucked in the stairwell. 

The ground outside was blanketed in just over eight inches of snow, crisp air like a swift slap in the space despite Alex’s layers. He had never done well in the cold, but for the first time in it he had proper attire. It was nice to be able to step outside without shivering immediately.

“What’s your plan here, Otter?” Hercules bumped against Lafayette, taking his hand as the latter led the three of them towards the unattached garage on the side of the house.

Alex was paying less attention to them than he was to the backyard. It was obviously landscaped underneath the snow, bushes surrounding what felt like a paved patio beneath his feet. There was a covered in-ground pool with a low brick fence tucked into the far corner of the clearing that the house was situated in. 

Past the patio was what Alex assumed was a garden. Closest to the house were barren trees in rows— _orchards_ his brain provided— with an arbour and bench swing. Past that were raised rectangular beds, likely for vegetables or flowers. He thought it must be a beautiful sight in the spring and summer.

_Too bad you’ll never be around to see it._

He turned back into his companions’ conversation when Lafayette typed a code into a keypad and one of the back doors slid up. They were bickering over something he hadn’t caught, Lafayette having stolen his partner’s scarf along the way. 

“I’m just saying, if you wanted me to make you one you could’ve asked. But you told me you didn’t like the material!” Hercules threw his hands in the air dramatically. 

“Made what?” Alex cut in, going for casual. Testing how comfortable he could seem before it became aggravating.

Hercules looked startled, like he’d forgotten Alex was there, but bounced back with a grin. “A scarf. Laf likes to say he doesn’t want me to make him things and then steal them from me.”

“You make clothes?” Alex hoped his shock wasn’t written on his face. It was such an… un-Alpha thing to do. Though, everyone here seemed to be opposed to stereotypes.

“On the side,” the Alpha was still smiling, seemed excited to talk about his clothing. “Hope to do it full time once I graduate.” 

“He already has a job lined up at a tailor's shop in D.C.,” if Alex though Hercules looked happy, Laf was practically glowing.

“He’s just happy about it because I altar all of his show clothes for him,” Hercules poked at Laf’s chest, flipping a light switch to his left. 

With the garage illuminated, Alex felt out of place all over again. There were four cars in one half of the garage, lined up like normal. But in front of the cars, lined closely together, were vehicles of all types. Four wheelers, two snowmobiles, gators, and more he couldn’t recognise. 

“Holy shit,” Alex winced at his lack of filter, but neither Alpha commented. 

“Come on,” Laf grabbed a set of keys off of the wall and climbed into the gator. “Herc, you’re in the second row,” he instructed, turning the engine over. 

Alex climbed in carefully, buckling his seatbelt immediately. “Where are we going?” He hadn’t thought this through. With that much land, they could take him anywhere. _And you just climbed into a vehicle with both of them,_ he hissed internally. _What’s that big smart brain good for?_ His internal monologue sounded suspiciously like an ex-foster father. 

“Out to the lake,” Lafayette spoke over the engine, pulling out into the open. He turned the opposite direction of the house, towards a trail broken through the thick trees surrounding them. 

Alex jumped— suddenly glad he was wearing his seatbelt for fear of falling out— when a huge hand landed on his shoulder. “Yo, I can smell your anxiety from back here. You good?” Hercules was going for comforting, but the fact that one hand covered Alex’s entire shoulder didn’t help the appeal. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” the Omega assured quickly, not wanting to show any more stress than was already evident. 

“We ain’t out to get you,” Herc removed his hand and slid over to the seat behind Lafayette to put more distance between the two of them. 

Alex hunkered down for the rest of the ride, keeping his eyes peeled as they drove through the dense forest.

“When it’s a bit colder we can ice skate on the lake,” Laf spoke up when frozen over water came into view. “It usually needs to get under ten degrees for that to happen, though.”

“Someone found that out the hard way,” Hercules laughed, shaking Laf’s shoulders once the gator was parked. 

“You fell?” Alex snickered quietly, covering the sound in his glove. He was grateful for the hand warmers.

“Briefly,” Lafayette admitted tersely. 

“Don’t be a baby. Come on, let’s walk around and then head back,” Hercules pulled Laf to his feet, “I’m freezing up out here.”

~ 

They walked around for less than twenty minutes, Alex’s pants wet where his boots didn’t cover by the end of it. They returned to the house after putting the gator away, the smell of cinnamon buns permeating the entire downstairs. 

“Oh, boys, that was a short trip around,” Martha was sitting at the breakfast bar with a book in her hand. George was rustling around the kitchen, apron tied around his waist. Alex liked how backwards the scene was. 

“When’ll they be done?” Lafayette dragged Hercules over to the window alcove, not bothering to ask what was baking. He knew that smell. 

“Ten minutes,” George answered with a glance at the stove timer. 

“Why don’t you get changed to go to the barn while you wait,” Martha suggested, putting her book aside. “Have you asked Alex if he would like to go out with you?” She looked pointedly at Lafayette.

“We have not,” Laf made an oops face and turned to Alex. “Would you like to come to the barn with Hercules and I? We will be picking John up before we go.” 

Alex wasn’t sure he wanted to be off property, entirely alone, with the two. But for some reason the prospect of seeing John again was enticing enough to agree with a nod. 

“Wonderful!” Laf clapped loudly once, turned, and bounded up the back staircase. 

“Dress warm, the viewing room is heated but the barn isn’t,” Hercules suggested, following after his boyfriend languidly. 

Alex was too slow to follow, George reaching a hand across the counter. The Omega was proud of himself for not flinching. 

“Have you ever ridden a horse, Alexander?” He asked before Alex could leave. 

The Omega was hesitant to answer; the truth may get them to watch him more closely. 

“Yes sir,” he admitted. “Back on- back on the island, our neighbours had an old plow horse. Their daughter taught me to ride when my dad wasn’t around. I’m okay at it.”

He was surprised at the elated look both adults gave him. 

“That’s wonderful!” Martha exclaimed. 

“Why do you ask?” 

Martha turned her chair around to truly face him. “Typically we fox hunt on the Sundays that Gilbert is home,” she explained. “We won’t go this weekend even though he’s here, but you having a riding background will help a lot. Would you have any interest in taking lessons to brush up?”

His eyes went wide. “You’d let me take real- real lessons?” Even with how generous they were, this offer was pushing it. “That’s really expensive…”

“Nonsense,” George still looked too happy that he had snuck behind his own father’s back, “if you would like lessons, we’d be happy to pay.”

“Thank you…” he supposed they had enough horses from what he’d been told. One more person riding might not have been a big deal to them. 

“Go on, dear, do dress warm. Hercules was right, and we don’t want you catching a chill,” Martha reached out to squeeze his hand, and he moved away with a nod. 

Once upstairs, he was set to the task of getting dressed in warmer, dry clothes. He pulled out a thick long sleeve shirt, a sweatshirt, and wool socks. Then decided to layer leggings under a pair of jeans, hoping to keep warmer.

His instincts were begging for him to pick up John’s sweater from the centre of his nest, for him to wear it. But they were seeing John.

_Can’t look weirder than you already are, then there’ll be no way any of them will stick around._

“Don’t do that to yourself,” Alex whispered to the empty room, forgoing following what his brain wanted. _You already practically smothered yourself with it, weirdo._

A knock on the door made Alex jump, halfway to squeezing black jeans over thick leggings. 

“Yeah?” He called, hoping Lafayette wouldn’t come in. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that’s who it was. 

“We are leaving soon, I have to ride four horses by tonight,” his voice was muffled through the door, but very audible. A glance at the clock told him it was just past one o’clock. 

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he called back through the door. 

He hurried to finish dressing, and emerged from the stairwell in time to be handed a cup of hot cocoa and a cinnamon bun. 

“Sit,” Martha instructed, abandoning her seat at the bar. “Gilbert ran to put another layer under his riding clothes.”

Alex eyed the cinnamon bun in front of him with hungry eyes. He hadn’t been able to indulge in something so sugary since living with the Stevens’ back on the St. Croix. He didn’t wait any longer, had to hold back an audible groan when the taste hit his tongue. By the time Lafayette and Hercules returned, the plate was clean, his stomach full, and he only mildly regretted it. 

“We will be leaving as soon as my tea is brewed,” Laf tossed the comment over his shoulder, flipping a switch on the electric tea kettle. He opened a cabinet, and Alex was taken aback by just how many teas and coffees stared at him from the shelf. 

Alex finished his cocoa while Lafayette brewed enough peppermint tea to fill a sixty-four-ounce thermos. When all parties were ready, Alex followed the Alpha teenagers out the door, following a quick squeeze on the hand from Martha. 

Lafayette had a navy blue Prius, said Alpha having had to shift items laying in the car about to clear two seats in the back. In the very back was a straining duffel bag, multiple folded blankets, a basket of food and water, a helmet bag, and riding boots. The back seat was taken over by multiple garment bags, which Alex thought looked expensive for something that was meant to just carry clothes. 

“So Alex,” Hercules spoke from the passenger's seat, “Laf says John got cozy with you the other day.” The Omega gripped the seat beneath him. 

“I am glad I got John to text Hercules that he was not there,” Laf turned off the driveway and onto the main road. “He was stressed beyond belief, sent me how many texts before John informed him?” He phrased it like a question, haughty tone making it clear he didn’t expect an answer.

“John was nice,” was all Alex offered, very aware that they were on the way to pick him up.

Hercules craned his neck around to look at Alex. “Just gonna ask you to let him down easy if you don’t swing that way,” he gave a small smile.

“Okay,” he whispered, cheeks burning. He had no idea what else to say. Did he come clean, or stay in the closet? 

He went with the safer prospect and didn’t say a word.

“Oh hush,” Laf slapped Hercules’ thigh, left hand still on the wheel. “Leave him be. Martha says you have riding experience?” He glanced at Alex in the rearview mirror.

A nod. “A little bit. But it’s been a long time.” He paused to work his nerve up. “My first night here, Martha said you show, right?” He knew his memory was right, but it was rude to not give Lafayette his say on the topic. 

“I do!” Alex shivered, reached down to turn his heated seat up with a silent thanks for nice cars. “John has one horse as well— it is how we met. He and I are bitter competitors.”

“Bull-fucking-shit!” Hercules guffawed, “you whine when John _doesn’t_ beat you!”

Alex stifled a laugh. He could perfectly picture the scene Hercules described; Lafayette bitter that his own hard work made his friend lose. He hunkered down in his warming seat, breathed in the content scent of both Alphas, and watched the scenery roll by.

~

John’s house was just as impressive as George and Martha’s. Based on appearance, the home was larger, but it’s imposing image was decreased by the suburban setting— that’s not to say the other houses weren’t almost that large as well.

The Omega came bounding out the front door once Hercules sent off a text. He was already in riding boots, unlike Lafayette, who wore insulated snow boots. 

“Alex!” John squeezed into the backseat with his fellow Omega, “you came out!” _What a turn of phrase,_ Alex laughed internally. 

“I decided to get out of the house, I guess,” he shrugged, accepting John’s hug warily. He smelled better than the sweatshirt in his nest.

John pulled out a phone from his pocket, swiping away his notifications before handing it to Alex with the contacts app open. “Give me your number, yeah? I don’t want to have to go through Laf.” He punctuated his request with a wink. 

Alex’s whole body felt hot with shame, skin prickling. “I don’t have a phone,” he admitted. John frowned, took the phone back, then went back to his happy demeanour. 

“Oh well, I’m sure George and Martha will get you one soon enough,” Alex hoped they didn’t, he already owed them too much. “Martha’s good at being a mom.”

“You ride?” Alex changed the subject, keeping perfectly still as John fit himself against the former’s side, his curly hair tickling Alex’s cheek despite being in a ponytail.

“I do,” John gave a nod, taking Alex’s wrist, fingers dancing across the material of the sleeve. “Nothing compared to Laf. The man’s a beast.”

Alex was confused by the contact, but didn’t dare pull away. Where their bare skin brushed it left a warm trail in its wake. A comforting burn. 

The snowy ground passed quickly outside the car window, mostly barren branches heavy with fresh powder. It all looked the same, winding roads followed by short straightaways through the trees, until a huge open expanse came into view. 

He could see the barn and arenas from the road, three outdoor arenas, and what looked like an indoor connected to the main barn. A house was tucked into the corner of the clearing by the driveway, as immaculate as the rest of the property. Four board white fences created paddocks and pastures— each full with at least one horse—, with a frozen-over lake winding along the far edge by one of the largest fields. 

It was better kept than any barn he’d ever seen before, even in passing. 

“What’s this stable called?” Alex leaned heavily onto John to get closer to the window, looking around wildly as Lafayette rolled to a stop to punch a pin into a keypad, the large double gate swinging open in response. 

“Colonial Acres Eventing,” John answered, sneaking running a finger over the back of all of Alex’s knuckles. 

“It’s huge!” 

“Come,” Laf beckoned when they’d all climbed out of the car, his riding boots now on, helmet bag in hand, “the horses stay outside during the days in the winter, we’ll have to go get them.”

Alex stayed in awe as they walked, John and Laf with halters in hand. He followed John when the group split, Laf and Hercules continuing to another pasture further down. 

“This is Riot,” John told Alex when a large black gelding came trotting up to the gate, wrapped up almost completely in blankets, a neckpiece, a tail wrap, and turnout boots. “He’s friendly, loves people.”

Alex stuck his hand out once John had the halter on, stroking a finger down his white nose. It was soft, the whiskers clipped short. 

“How old is he?” Alex asked, stepping back so that the gate could be opened and Riot could slip out without his two pasture mates escaping. 

“Eleven,” John and Alex fell into step again, John keeping a firm hold of the lead rope as they walked. “He loves his job, too.”

Alex smiled, shivering when the wind suddenly cut off as they stepped through the wide barn door. The inside was just as spectacular as the outside, two rows of stalls facing each other, separated by a double-wide centre aisle. There were, by Alex’s count, ten stalls on the left side and eleven on the right. The right side continued on down a ramp after the stalls ended, down into the indoor he'd seen from the road. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Alex commented, tucking himself against a wooden pole in the middle of the aisle, watching John unbuckle and unstrap blankets with practiced precision. 

“Yeah, Juliana keeps a clean place,” John agreed, folding the heavyweight horse blanket that was bigger than he was. 

“Is that your trainer?” He stepped closer to stroke a hand down Riot’s newly uncovered coat, the fur a rich black. 

“That is indeed,” John confirmed in a chipper tone. “Juliana Cosette. Her sister Elizabeth trains here too. You won’t meet them today, they took a couple of other students to shows in Maryland and southern Virginia this weekend.”

Alex startled back when new hoof beats sounded on the grey rubber pavers that lined the barn aisle. Whirling around, he was greeted with Lafayette leading a horse the same size as John’s, golden palomino fur visible just on the horse’s head. The horse had a thick blaze down her face, and— once uncovered— all four legs had socks of varying heights.

“Meet Buttons,” Laf happily introduced his horse, clipping the cross ties, then undoing blankets with just as much fervor as John had possessed. Though the blankets didn’t weigh more than him. “I most definitely did not name her.”

Alex crossed over to where the mare was standing, petting her jaw lightly. “What’s wrong with her name?” He asked, smiling at the soft golden fur.

“It is just not a name I would have chosen,” Laf shrugged the question off, placing the blanket he had folded on a stall door with the nameplate reading _‘White Gold,’_ hanging the tail bag and boots on a hook.

“She’s very pretty,” Alex jumped when the horse snorted heavily, but went right back to his petting. 

Lafayette was grinning ear to ear. “I think we found what brings you out of your shell.” He sounded ecstatic, patting his horse’s neck heavily. 

“Watch him for me,” John called over his shoulder as he speed-walked towards the back of the barn, disappearing around the corner. 

“I am glad you are so comfortable around the horses,” Laf spoke as he began putting his hair up in a hairnet, “but I would ask you to be more careful around Cricket and Harrison, as they are both intact and can occasionally show their testosterone.”

“So two stallions and two mares?” Alex confirmed.

“Yes, that’s correct,” the Alpha fitted his helmet, leaving it unbuckled for the time being. Alex went back to his petting, walking back over to Riot to share the love. It had been far too long. 

John came back toting more than what looked comfortable to carry; a saddle, a bridle, a grooming box, a girth, multiple pads, and splint boots. 

“Our John is lucky, he only needs to care for one saddle,” Laf lamented, following where John had appeared from, presumably to grab his own tack and brushes. 

“Hush up!” John laughed, carefully setting his things down. He bent over when it was safely placed, and handed a brush to Alex with a grin. “They stay pretty clean all covered up, but you want to brush the static off him?”

Alex took the body brush happily, going at Riot’s black fur with fervor. John went behind him, cleaning hooves as he could once Alex moved down the gelding’s body.

“What breed is he?” He asked, giving a wide berth to Riot’s hind end— though he noted that John walked directly behind the horse, barely an inch between them. 

“He’s a Holsteiner,” John chirped, tossing a sapphire blue close contact square pad and white half pad onto the gelding’s back. He hefted and secured the saddle with practiced ease, attaching a running martingale. The bridle was last, but John waited for Lafayette to finish his hasty tack, Hercules handing his boyfriend pieces of equipment when they were needed.

“You want to hang in the ring with me, or the lounge?” Hercules asked, hanging back to let John and Lafayette walk ahead of them, down the ramp to the indoor. “The lounge is heated, but I’ll be in the ring to reset jumps and shit.”

Alex thought about it, didn’t say anything, but followed Hercules, Lafayette, and John down the ramp to the arena. It was just as immaculate— and enormous— as the barn, peaked ceiling letting light in through the snow by way of a long skylight, lit more by artificial lights and mostly glass walls. 

Elaborate horse jumps were set in an intricate course that Alex couldn’t follow, numbers set by the base of each jump. Each was painted bright colours, most standards cut into elaborate shapes. Alex shadowed Hercules, going right back to petting Buttons’ nose when Lafayette handed off his horse.

The Alpha went to stretching, forcing his muscles to lengthen before he tightened his girth, Hercules giving him a leg up. 

“C’mon,” Hercules started for the centre of the arena, “Juliana and Elizabeth keep chairs in the middle of the ring. 

~

John and Lafayette rode like a dance, even though neither horse was trained in much dressage. John jumped first, with jumps set at 1.20m, then Hercules went around and changed every jump Laf wanted to use, raising the height to 1.50m. 

Watching was mesmerising, and Alex traced the courses over and over in his head, even after both boys had finished their ride. He stayed by John’s side after they’d dismounted, unwilling to undo any tack in case he dropped something, but content to watch and brush. 

“We’ve got a hell of an after-ride routine,” John informed him, all tack and brushes put away. He’d returned with a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a jug of something that read Vetrolin, a bucket, and a sponge.

“Got these tips Laf, they’ve kept Riot in tip-top shape,” he explained, waving Alex over. “You wanna rub his legs down?” He asked, holding the isopropyl alcohol out. 

Alex took it with shaky hands, kneeling down on the rubber flooring.

“What’s this for?” Alex asked, pouting alcohol onto his hands, immediately rubbing it onto the gelding’s cannon and pastern, moving on when the fur was dry. 

“It cools his legs down,” John explained, “in the summers we use ice wraps too, keeps anything from swelling up.” Alex nodded in understanding. He rubbed all four legs down, stepping back when John mixed Vetrolin and water in a bucket. 

“This too. You ever used tiger balm or Biofreeze on sore muscles?” Alex shook his head. “Oh, well, it just keeps things from hurting. Helps relax any tense muscles.”

John took the sponge, lathering the horse’s back, shoulders, neck, butt, and the top of his legs. Alex noted that Laf was doing the same, Hercules waiting with a sweat scraper. 

~

John joined Alex in the viewing room for Lafayette’s next ride— a giant dapple grey stallion named Cricket. It was warm, a row of couches facing the glass wall that backed against the arena. It offered a nice, raised view of the entire arena. 

Alex tucked himself into the corner of one couch, only straining further into it when John chose to sit just inches away. 

“Watching Laf ride is insane, especially when he can run the cross country course,” John scooted closer. “Cricket is great at his job, but if you want a real show you’ve got to wait for Harrison.”

“Why’s he so good?” Alex asked softly, eyes tracking the horse and his warm-up. It was already different from Buttons’; more focused on lateral movement, circles, and dressage-esk movements. Alex wouldn’t admit out loud that he’d been following riding secretly for years.

John shrugged. “He’s a bit older, and he was trained by an Olympic three-day eventer until last year. He’s that calibre horse. The others are still three and four-star rides, but they don’t have quite the level of training.”

 _Of course they bought him an Olympic level horse,_ Alex thought. 

“So Alex, you enjoy the nest?” John asked, inching his fingers to the outer edge of Alex’s denim-covered thighs. 

“I, uhm, I- yeah. Yeah, I slept well,” he stuttered through his answer. John beamed. 

“I’ll be joining your family tomorrow, my dad’s going out of town tomorrow morning so I’ll be able to sneak away,” he said excitedly. “You want to go with me to Hercules’ hockey game tomorrow night?”

“Hercules plays hockey?” Alex asked instead of answering. 

“Here and there,” he confirmed. “It’s much less for sport than it is for fun.” It made sense that the Alpha could play a game like hockey just on the side. The man was a mountain. 

“I’ll go,” Alex agreed, cheeks flushing. He blamed the cold outside. 

“Sweet!” John pumped his fist in triumph, settling back against the couch to watch. “I’ll drive you separately if you want. Herc and Laf usually get… cuddly after a game.” Alex noticed that John was choosing his words very carefully. 

He blushed harder. “What time is the game?” He’d never been to a hockey match before, didn’t know much about the sport at all. 

“Six-thirty. If George and Martha know you’re going they’ll take us out to dinner,” John elbowed Alex lightly in the arm. Alex’s blush disappeared rapidly, stomach turning at the thought of a crowded restaurant. 

But they would want to celebrate, especially if Hercules’ team won. He couldn’t very well say no to that, especially if it was tradition. 

“They can decide,” he deflected, eyeing John’s hand. He didn’t grab it. 

“Whatever you want,” Alex was glad John didn’t push. 

They both quieted down, leaned back, and watched Lafayette ride in peaceful quiet. 

~

Lafayette rode the other two horses after Cricket. Domino, a sleek black mare with a blaze, front socks and a hind right stocking, had been impressive; she’d cleared 1.55m fences like they were cross rails. 

But John had been right about Harrison. He was a buckskin, a perfect blaze printed on his face and with four socks, and the horse looked every part the Olympic trained horse John had hyped him up to be. 

The horse positively floated, jumping with a speed and grace that any ballerina would kill to possess. Even on the way home Alex could see the simple dressage pattern Lafayette had put him through as a warmup, still fresh behind his eyelids. 

They dropped John off at his house on the way home, a strange want to keep the Omega with them in the car emerging when it came time for John to go. Alex ignored it, settled for appreciation at the hand squeeze he was left with. 

Afterward, the rest of the night was uneventful. Well, as uneventful as Alex could get. He ate in silence, shocked when Hercules didn’t leave after their meal yet again. Instead, the Alpha marched upstairs with Lafayette, and the Omega didn’t see either of them for the rest of the evening.

He was surprisingly relaxed that night, even with the knowledge that another hulking Alpha was just down the hall. Hell, Alex and Lafayette shared a wall. But the night air was silent. 

By midnight the Omega had found a comfortable place in his nest, surrounded by the scents he was trying to become comfortable with.

He slept soundly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed!
> 
> Here are the [shitty barn blueprints](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com/post/618155626808377344/more-shitty-blueprints-for-the-remnants-of)
> 
> Come yell at me on [my tumblr!](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y’all enjoyed! Let me know what you thought in the comments, or come yell at me on [my Tumblr](https://google-translate-lafayette.tumblr.com)
> 
> • Martha Washington actually had a green parrot (couldn’t find a specific breed) named either Snipe or Polly, depending on the source.  
> • Gilbert is pronounced Jil-bear, not the American pronunciation with a hard G.  
> • Even during the war, Lafayette was so used to having things at his beck and call that his go-to meal was an omelet with fresh herbs.  
> • Alexander was likely raised with many Jewish values on Nevis due to his mother’s first husband being a Jew, and attended a Jewish school. It may have been because there weren’t many places that would readily take a bastard, but it’s also worth noting that he spoke enough Hebrew in later life to teach it to his children.


End file.
